Rise of the Jedi
by LongLoreLover
Summary: Through the eyes of Yoda, we shall explore his past. Where he came from, who was he before gamma radiation, borne from the first lightsaber, changed and inflicted him. Yoda is not 1000 years old, but far older. I present, with all the elegance I can muster, Rise of the Jedi, which takes place before even the Old Republic, back on earth... Enjoy!
1. It all Started

_I probably shouldn't, but after reading Alexa Skywalker's story, and loving Star Wars, I have to post this story. And so I present, Rise of the Jedi!_

Before Anakin was slain, he was a Jedi Knight was a vibrant future. Before that, he was Pod-racer Extraordinaire. Before that, Anakin Skywalker ceased to exist, and the Republic of Old was dominant. But, before that, in such a galaxy far far away, we know about it now...How can humans exist out there, among the cosmos? Did we finally make our way out of our Quadrantal Crib? No. This is story...of how the Jedi Order truly began.

On the thirty-first day of June, Earth, in the Eastern Hemisphere, an elite group of soldiers moved in next-generation Shadow Stormers. The trucks stood ten feet above their three foot wheels of war, black and powerful. They were retrofitted with heat-sensor rockets, an EMP, HDP( Human Disruptor Pulse), and of course, door machine-guns. The driver drove behind a bulletproof window while the passenger read Heartbeat scans of everything in a three hundred-fifty foot sweep, infrared forward scans, and overall updates from base. The men in front mentally-relayed information to each other via eye scanners. What one saw, the other automatically knew; these were the best of the best.

"Devilkin, what do you make of this one?" a robust black man murmured through his headset. His arms weighed thirty pounds each, and he was outfitted with only a Soldia Pistol which fired Malaria-Rounds, and a three inch Bull Shark Tooth knife. Devilkin shrugged. "I don't know BD(Big Daddy), I don't know. But if they sent us, it won't be easy."

"Yeah but they sent us so it would be easy, we're the best of the best." A lean man declared. His name was Mouse. Devilkin let the comment go and closed his eyes, reliving the last situation they were in were it was supposed to be _easy_.

"_No man! God so much blood, stop the bleeding! Stop it!" Devilkin wrung his hands, they were slippery from the red torment that gushed out like a geyser. He steeled himself and went back, averting his eyes while looking at BD. The man's forehead was coated in sweat, and Devilkin started to cry silently while his brother was on the operating table. A Blood-Gusher bullet had hit him in the lung, causing it to collapse. Blood Gushers unleashed a chemical that aggravated blood, repulsing all of it out, and so making someone bleed to death ten times faster. Devilkin shook his head again, and then wiped his eyes. His whole view was red..._

"I don't know." he repeated.

Inside the back of Shadow 1 was: Mouse, Devilkin, BG, and an explosive-specialist named Alamo. His holographic face flickered for a moment, and then resettled. It did a bio-reconfiguration every hour, or when the electric signal was being interrupted. The latter was thought of.

"DragonDen we are experiencing a bit of electro-static interference. I think we're nearing target."

"DragonDen copies. All teams, full-engagement. And look sharp, who knows what the hell they have in there..."

Alamo looked to his fellow soldiers and sighed tiredly. "Damn it's gonna be one of those days." BD just chuckled.

They rode on in silence for another fifteen minutes, five seconds when one of the men murmured, "That can't be right."

"What can't?" Devilkin inquisted, but the man ignored him, doing some quick calculations.

"Uh DragonDen, our Electrostatic Relayer is reading an average Electron Value of 105 to the 12th."

"This is DragonDen, those calcuations can't be right. Recheck and confirm for update."

"DragonDen this is Shadow I just did the figures in my head, and these computers don't get Atomic Interpretation of Energy Waves incorrect. Something, from an approximate thirty seven miles away, is putting out as much energy as the Sun does in a year, without vaporizing us."

"Explain to DragonDen how that works again, Electron Values."

"Electrons are parts of an atom, but according to Relativity, everything is basically energy, despite energy being known as the ability being able to accomplish work. Going back to Electrons, if you were to bring together a concrete measurement of energy, then you get an unbelievable amount. Electron Values is a collective amount of energy, on a type of radiation or energy level. I'm reading that number, on Gamma rays, the highest form of known cosmic radiation."

"This is DragonDen, go guns blazing. Procure that object while we brush up on Einstein and PHD-level Science..."

The people nodded with grim smiles on their faces, and the cars accelerated. "Turning on Mirror Mode, going Invisible in three. two. one."

The Shadows turned invisible.

14 minutes and eight seconds later, and BD's eyebrows furrow in bewilderment.

"Is this the place?" he asks in his deep voice.

"The orders say we're two hundred meters out."

"What the hell this is a farm!" Mouse raged. His Homer Simpson face made the exact mouth moves and voice.

"Seems like a perfect place to hide a bomb." Devilkin's skull pointed out.

"Yes, but this is a farm in the middle of a neighborhood. It doesn't even have land, it's a barn!"Mouse continued, causing BD to laugh.

"Doesn't matter if it was a toilet, we move in."Alamo stated before getting out. The others put aside their feelings and stepped out too, along with the drivers. The other Shadows let people out, and soon 18 troops stood assembled.

"DragonDen this is Shadows 1,2, and 3. Send the presents." The Driver of Shadow One commanded. All the men held out their hands, and suddenly green dots appeared at respective heights. Then lines shot out, and in seconds or minutes, full blueprints for guns were in place. Then colors filled in, and the lines were covered to the exact dimension as full-sized weapons materialized into the hands of the troops. BD held a red minigun, Devilkin a classic heart-shaped Shield and short spear, Alamo a Quad-Barrel Shotgun with Motion Tracker, and Mouse with a flamethrower in one hand, and a Grenade launcher in the other. The Driver and Relayer each held HeadRipper Machine Guns that fired 640 degree Celsius rounds.

"Shadow 1 will lead Shadow 2 in. Shadow 3, guard the rides." BD ordered. He wasn't in charge, but the others respected his words anyway. Breathing increased exponentially, and BD moved to Devilkin, who stood, gaze steeled towards the barn. "Do you want to sit this one out? We can take a man from the other trucks." BD offered, but Devilkin automatically shook his head.

"I got to get past this. He wouldn't have wanted me to stop...HeadHunter...Derek...my brother Stephen...they would want me to continue fighting for the country they died fighting for."

"Stop lying to yourself Devilkin. We were betrayed by our country, and that is why we're with DragonDen now." BD walked away, and Devilkin shook his head again. He would get through this, hopefully. BD started moving towards the house, and Shadow 1 fell in, while Shadow 2 umbraed thirty feet behind them.

"Mouse, move around the left side with Alamo, Devilkin you're with me. Driver, and Relay, set up the Erasers. " BD doled out. His feet were air cushioned, so no sounds were made during footfall. Then BD had an idea.

"Everyone, let's just go in through the front door."

Mouse was the first one to respond. "Have all those damn steroids you take finally enlarged your brain?"

"Can it Squeaky. I may not order you around, but I think this will be an easy raid."

"No raid is easy. No fucking raid, is ever easy!" Devilkin shouted, and everyone switched him off from their coms. BD kept walking, and then stopped at the door. It was light brown, and BD smiled. "It's made of lead to keep the radiation shielded. I'm gonna kick it down."

"Meattruck if you die can I have your sweet looking gun?"

"Mouse I will poison you with this lead. How about that?" BD threatened, and Mouse shut-up.

BD made gloved fist, and knocked once.

The door swung open.

BD moved in silently, sweeping his minigun side to side. slowly as his visual scanners took in anything. The area was obviously abandoned-_looking_, but Big Daddy had walked into many situations he underestimated, and he was a lucky man to have come out of them with only memories and non-life threatening injuries. His face was cautious, as his infrared shoulder light gave him an increased sight, and his feet bent diagonally, so he could pivot without loss of balance. As he went in, he ordered, "Devilkin, Mouse, back me up."

The two men were there in seconds, Devilkin's head ducked behind his shield slightly, and his spear in attack position. Mouse just sauntered up to his place with a cocky attitude, smirking. "Let's go Fatty." he clapped BD on the back, and walked completely in.

Big Daddy and Devilkin let the man go, let the sheep die to save the dogs. If there was a trap, it was unlikely it was custom-made for each one of them. Still, Devilkin and BD cautiously went in.

"Wow, look at all the crap in here. Do you know the average household has over three thousands dollars in items no one in that house wants?"

"Don't need the fact Mouse, we need that energy source." Devilkin responded, eyes intent. Mouse shrugged and declared, "Well it ain't above aground at least. My scanners are not picking up anything in the immediate area."

"That doesn't mean it ain't here Mouse. Everyone, move in. We need to completely get this place viewed. " BD spoke, and in a minute, Shadows' 1,2, and 3 were all there and assembled.

"Okay boys, you heard what I said. We just have to find that energy. Test the floor with your feet, some of you can start sawing, but Steve, do not saw off your foot with that laser beam again, you only have two feet, and Drizzle, no letting off rounds because your finger 'slipped'. Everyone know what to do?"

A chorus of "hell yes" answered him, and everyone started getting to work.

_-One hour thirty- nine minutes, three seconds_

"Big Daddy! I think I found something!" a woman yelled, and everyone crowded around. Big Daddy thudded to her. and kneeled. "Whatcha got?"

"This floor has a density of .96, and it isn't made of chemicals, but hydrogen."

Big Daddy's eyes brows almost jumped off his head. "Everyone out! It's a bomb!" Everyone started to run when the woman roared, "No you buffoons! It simply means that there is water under it that this is floating on, and that this can't be broken down easily by a solvent. Yes, hydrogen is explosive, but if it were going to blow, it already would have."

"Well, the floor still poses a problem," Alamo said with his arms crossed. "If we cut through it, the floor may explode. Plus, we don't know if the water is being used as a coolant for the energy source, and so how hot this geyser may be."

The woman nodded. "Are there any idiots that want to try to do this?"

A man with a Flamethrower in one hand, and a Grenade Launcher in another moved forward, moving like he owned the place. He flashed a cocky smile. "And that's Mister Idiot to you..."

The grass barely stirred as all the soldiers watched Mouse from three hundred feet away. Mouse took out his laser saw, and without any hesitance, he started to cut.

The place did not blow. And the laser sliced. But then, an Mouse screamed, and he dropped the laser directer, which glowed a bright red, with heat, and then a massive beam blasted into the floor. The object shook as if in pain, Mouse looking at it in shock. The pointer glowed even redder, and then with an unyielding end, cooled into a small pile of charred black ashes. Mouse laughed, and said, "It sucked all the juice right out of the laser."

"There's at least five hours of life in that laser to keep it burning at thousands of degrees..." another soldier trailed off in wonder. Mouse laughed, and clapped. "Oh I really want to know what's under this floor now."

Devilkin's gaze locked onto a depression in the ground. "Yo, look at that." He pointed, and BD jogged over to it, before smiling and putting down his minigun, and drawing a Soldia Pistol. Nothing special, it just fired stars instead of bullets, for stars sever and knick seclusively while bullets tear through on impact. He pulled at the cover, and with a grunt, the cover creaked, and slammed into the dirt. BD dropped a small stick, and the room flashed, everything with an edge highlighted in red. He automatically jumped the ten feet to the ground, rolled, and aimed his pistol. After a minute, he started exploring.

The room was not big, only about 100 feet by 100 feet, and ten feet high. Also it was empty, except for a desk in the corner furthest from the hole. Devilkin jumped down after BD, anfollowed by Alamo and Mouse. The floor was metal, and coated in dust. Devikin noticed the desk, and moved to it. There, gleaming on the table, was a small cache. It was bright brown, and about the size of a tv. The only reason it was not visible was because it had mirrors that reflected back light too.

"Guys, over here." Devilkin announced, and his team came over. There he started to open it, when BD stopped him, "We don't know what this is. Let's open it at base."

The others nodded, but Mouse shook his head. "What if this is dangerous. Besides, are you not the least bit curious in what's in this thing?"

"I'm as giddy as a deluded five-year old on Christmas morning to see what this thing has. But orders are orders, and besides, I'd rather die after I've had made box of donuts at home."

'You mean the chocolate sprinkles?" Mouse as with a squeak and ran to Shadow Stormer 1 as BD took a swipe at him. Shaking his head in disbelief, he picked up the cache and frowned.

"Not as hot as you thought it'd be?" Alamo's Bugs Bunny voice asked, and BD smiled. "No, it has basically no weight. Hmm. Team, let's go home."

They left out, and as they left the farm, a lone man turned off his cloak. He had made sure tat he was outside of the scans, but he knew them inside and out, being a Shadow himself. As he saw the men, he nodded at his old team mates, and walked away.

"Yeah they have the package. Should be three days before they crack it. Yes, I'll lead the Recovery Team."

"Yes. I'm good enough...Do not worry about my emotions, Trance is not my brother anymore."

**Hope you enjoyed. FYI I will explain about nhow Yoda is of this story. - LLL**


	2. Deadline

"So, what is this exactly?" BD asked. His armor had been stripped away, and he was wearing a white muscle tanktop, cotton. His face, without the massive clutter, made out for a strong chin, wise, kind eyes with a happy gleam. His head was bald, but he had a very healthy looking mustache, and built like a finely drawn buff character while standing at 6' 9'', he was indeed, a big daddy. A scientist looked up at him with furrled eyebrows. "I don't know man, but I've never seen a thing such as this. We may have more in a few hours. For now, relax, buy and hide more donuts, jog, entertain yourself. Big Daddy nodded and walked, wondering whether or not he had been lied to just now about them not knowing _anything_.

Devilkin, aka Drake, was lying bare-chested on his black silk bed sheets. He wasn't a bad-boy, he just didn't see the need for color, especially when you're sleeping and not really seeing anything but black. In the end, all you saw was black, whether if it was light or not, or you were dead. So he laid there, flipping through the last pages, E.G. Wells War of the Worlds. He'd seen the 2005 adaption and found it fairly good, but he didn't like how the military was so pathetic, and even wrote a letter to Steven Spielberg detailing about many tactics he got wrong. No reply but at least he tried.

Armor piled in the corner of his bed, he once again rubbed his hand over the scar that he'd gotten from a few missions ago. Here, in this place everyone tried to move on, but Drake couldn't and didn't want to. His older brother was murdered in a raid to save him, because he'd disobeyed an order. In military, you'd be charged with a lot of things. But out here, it was just an accident, because there were no laws. His group of people were funded by a very wealthy individual, who knew that as his unit gained acclaim, they'd be hired to do things no military could, for much more of a profit. So they obeyed, well the heads of DragonDen did, while people like Drake were told to move on. Yeah right.

He continued reading.

"Hey, do you want to hit the XBOX360 after we're done eating, grab our soads and get together a mass game of Halo Reach?" Mouse asked Alamo. Both men were similar in stature, only 5'9'' and weighing 363 pounds between the both of them. Many thought them twins, but Mouse was way too different from Alamo, who rarely said anything, and definitely couldn't play Halo. "Maybe another time." He replied, and Mouse shrugged. "Fine, I'll go play and you can read the manual, feel up the book of awesome controls. Come on what do you say?!." Alamo smiled, and said sure. There just was no shaking Mouse.

BD sat at his desk, looking over numerous papers from things he had lined up. Birth certificates, possible leads to the family that supposedly died in a fire, one thing BD had learned during his time here, nothing stayed dead. Be it your past, your dreams, nothing stayed dead. It was one of reasons he encouraged Devilkin to remember, because it'd hurt more when the memory was gone, and because a feeling told him that Stephen was not dead. It may have looked like it, but in this profession, nothing died. It was just an amount of time before they were fighting zombies...

"Wow you really do sucK!" Mouse exclaimed, and Alamo glared at Mouse.

"But you knew that you sly creep."

"Hey, you're the one that agreed."

"Well whatever happened to that marathon?" Mouse shrugged, "Everyone's probably busy, and it isn't Friday, so they are **definitely **busy."

"I'm not." Drake said from behind Mouse, and Mouse turned around. Drake was really good at Halo, one of the best he ever had played. It'd be a rare thing for him to lose, and so Mouse said, "You are so on!" The two sat, and Alamo watched with a slight wealth of envy. But it abated, and he drank some of his beer while leaning back, watching as Drake crushed Mouse with intense satisfaction. He sipped more of his beer.

BD walked back up to the Research Den, feet thudding with almost no noise. He was still in his white tanktop and red sweatpants, but he also carried his gun, he never trusted a scientist. As he opened the door, he saw everyone huddled around the artifact, he silently eased out and got his team. Five minutes later, they came back.

"What do we got now?" Big Daddy asked, crossing his arms. The people moved around him, and he strode up to a group of six scientists, one of the leaders of DragonDen, and their beneficiary. All had crisp suits, but the scientists wore white ones while the other people wore black. Behind them stood a pulsing amount of energy, although it was invisible due to it not emitting any visible light.

"What is that?" Alamo asked, and scientists suddenly came to life.

"We don't quite know, except it has an amazing wealth of energy, and it isn't radioactive to our estimates."

"Well, is it weaponizable?" The beneficiary asked with a flat voice. He was quite young, possibly his forties, but he looked much older. The leader of DragonDen shook his head profusely.

"This is too dangerous to be weaponized. Anything that it has come in contact with so far has melted, or in some cases set on fire. However, the even worse thing is that this energy needs energy to stimulate and keep it moving, otherwise it fades, and becomes harmless." The beneficiary's lips pursed. "I'm not paying you because I worry about the cost of batteries, or about safety. I heard you recently lost some of yours. What a pity, but that has not stopped you, nor will it stop you. I am being quite crisp and clear am I not?"

Everyone nodded, although BD and Drake suddenly wished that they had never met the beneficiary, although BD was more concerned about the disconcenered way this man tossed aside human life, life that had been one of his best friends. Life that had been Drake's brother. The man walked away, his steps fluid, as if he was gliding. He turned around and said with a cold snarl, "I want this thing weaponized by tomorrow, or you will have five of your people notified to our enemies. Do show me why you are the best, my memory wanes in my old age."

As he left, BD muttered to himself, "_Yet you can never forget to be a prick huh...?" _

-**Hope you likey!-LLL**


	3. Distribution

A man with pure red hair growled in anger, frustrated over his lack of progress. It had been three hours since the beneficiary, known as Crislin Dullvunnocha, had laid a deadline down. Many people went off to go brainstorm ideas, but James Bulvoochi had just tried to take what they already have. Energy. It was deadly, and that in it's own right was better than any explosive or grenade or spear or sword.

A sword...

It suddenly came with a strike, a piercing thought seared into Bulvoochi's brain. It was simple, yet would be the hardest thing humanity could ever face. Grabbing his pencil, he started to write.

"That guy is a dick!" Drake said, slamming his fist into a table. Most of the base was assembled around him, thinking up ideas. They watched silently, no one objecting, but knowing saying anything else would set Drake off on a reel of reasons which they knew would take time away from their goal of finding an idea. BD however knew Drake needed to speak, and gripped his shoulders.

"Look man I don't like him either, but we got work to do so we can be alive to call him weird, inappropriate names tomorrow. Let's get back on track alright?"

Drake stared into the wise eyes, and finally nodded. BD rose satisfied, and barked, "So, what do we got?"

"How about a type of bomb?" This thing has a lock of punch, let's use it!" A man called Arswatt proposed. A couple people nodded in agreement, but Big Daddy shook his head. "No good, it only has a one-time use then. We need something we all can wield, and use many times."

"What about a vaporizer?" Asked a woman named Armageddon. Thoughtful expressions all over until a scientist shook his head.

"No dice, the energy has to be stimulated with more energy to be used as a weapon, and even then it'd be detrimental to all of us, unless we were able to make contact with the enemy, and not set up a pulse of some kind."

BD rubbed his forehead. "Okay, let's stop going sci-fi for a moment. What type of weapons are there?"

"Guns."

"Knives."

"Swords."

"Axes."

"Bludgeons."

"Don't forget maces!"

"Bombs."

"Tasers."

"Pencils..." This got a round of laughter, and Mouse beamed at himself proudly. BD groaned. "There has to be something we can mold this into. How much energy is there for personal uses?"

"Personal uses to do what?" A man asked for elaboration.

"I don't know, to melt something!"

"How about someone...?" James asked, walking into the room. People smiled as he held up a bunch of papers and blueprints. "Let's get to work."

"And so, it burns at 4000 degrees Celcius, more than hot enough to melt through nearly any substance. However, it would be an even bigger drain on the battery, so don't melt anything or leave it out unless engaging."

"How long can we use it if we are just cutting up soldiers?" A few snickers followed.

James shrugged. "Probably an hour, it isn't exactly something that lasts forever. New units have to be forged very carefully, and even then whomever uses this weapon has to be very trained. The heat radiating from these is enough to negate any bullet, but you must first be able to see the bullet coming..."

"And that's our problem isn't it..." surmised BD. The scientists nodded. "The average reaction time for a human when faced with a projectile 20 ft away is 2. 6788839 seconds to discern the threat, have your nerves contract your muscles to move, and then actually move your body. A bullet however from a pistol, is capable of traversing that distance in miliseconds. Wielding this blade, you would actually have to move **before** your adversary got it in their mind to blow your brains out. We can't do that, so this idea is just in case we can't come up with anything else."

"Assuming we were passed the gun problem, how would we power these..these...energy swords? Battery packs?"

"Yes, something is also inefficient, and so I maintain that these would only be used for covert operations, not the battlefield which we sometimes deploy you in."

Alamo raised his hand. "This thing takes care of bullets, but can it stop other weapons?"

The people automatically shook their head. "No."

Alamo groaned. BD shrugged and said, "I'll take one." The room filled with furious whispering. Drake simply smiled as BD walked up to the scientists; he'd expected his friend to make a bold move. He stood up also, "Make it two, but mine with an energy point and a spear handle." The scientists simply stared at the pair, until James shrugged. I'll see what I can do. Come with me though so we can make the personal modifications." The two men followed James out, leaving the other scientists with the rest of the Shadows.

"Well since we have nothing better to do, what do you say we come up with a kick-ass name for these energy sabers?" Mouse nodded coolly as the room began to brain-storm.

"Make a choke hold with your hand. Yes just like that, wow you must be a good choker."

"I try." BD's grip was measured and the process began. A core vacuum would suck the energy back into a pure cache of diamonds at the bottom, which a reverse polar field would be activated to send the energy in the opposite direction. At the bottom of pommel would be a battery needed to constantly keep the polar field active, and then a tesla coil would be the channel between the battery pack and the device. The metal that then went around the blade was titanium with super-cooled lead to reduce the radiation that the energy may give off during usage, and then the lead was topped with basalt, at BD's request, that was painted with his symbol of a cougar coming through the trees. Next came the twenty-nine pound battery pack. Housed in it was enough power to run all the lights in New York for ten days, yet this device would use it up in little more than an hour. It may be inefficient, but anything to stay ahead of the game. Once it was fully constructed, BD twisted his wrist and shrugged the pack onto his shoulders.

"Okay Big Daddy, try it out."

"Okay." BD pressed the button, and...nothing happened. At first, until a blast of green shot three feet out of the handle, and the graviton beam activated, holding it at that range. From the entering of the air, the energy made a _whoom_ sound that gave Big Daddy chills.

Few things gave Big Daddy chills. His face broke out into a wide grin and he swung, the change in stance causing a low pitch to erupt. As he brought the blade to his face, BD noticed that the blade shimmered, electrons moving in a constant stream as they bounced around, and gases reacting when the two met. It was then that BD noticed his output.

"Why is it at 300 melkrypes when it says the top is 1000?"

James scrambled forward. "Your blade, accustomed for the way you swing and move has been deemed most effective at that power output. Too little power and the blade won't slice paper, but too powerful and not even the lead can protect you from the sure-fire gamma rays that will result. Also, do you feel a constant tugging at you?"

Big Daddy said he did. "That is the energy actually pulling at your electrons. This is wierd because according to atomic laws, electrons repulse each other, that''s why we have induction. But these electrons seem to be calling to each other, trying to meet up and grow stronger. At 1000 mk, the force may be so great that it could literally rip you apart, or at the very least particles of you would start to invisibly tear away. The maximum safety for you before such a thing breaks through the outward graviton beam, or what's pushing you particles back to you, is 790 melkrypes. Do not exceed this, or you are at the liberty of whether Death chooses to take you. Understood?"

Big Daddy said he understood, and then launched into a flurry of swipes, cutting down scores of poorly equipped soldiers. The lightsaber flashed and whirled, a thin trail following as it adjusted and met the wind head on. The green always made a low throaty hum, and when Big Daddy finished half an hour later, with a body count of thirty-seven thousand, six hundred ninety-four, and about to finish off the ninety-fifth, he glanced at the blade again. He could not see his reflection, and although he knew this blade was trying to take his electrons, he could not help feeling a connection with the weapon. They were connected, by attraction, by power, and by the need to make the Universe better. It just so happened that the blade was focused solely on how to improve its universe. BD switched it off, the blade retracted, the power gauge was at 78%, a _scuooop_ as the vacuum closed, and Big Daddy smiled.

"_**You are now my lightsaber, and your name, is Ravage.**_ Yes, Big Daddy and Ravage, like two bad comic book names." Booming laughter followed, and Drake walked up to James, ready for _his_ lightsaber.

Drake was not able to get a spear, but James said he would work out the mechanics later. The blade however was drastically different from Big Daddy's solid green. It was a deep teal with gold lines running through the beam, due to Drake asking for a different power source, and energy emitter. BD's had run on hydrogen fusion, but Drake decided he liked a pure electric source of power instead of a store that could be depleted. His lightsaber was solar-powered, with capturing photons and using photonic fission. Because no photons reached out or were around Drake's lightsaber, it was always shrouded in a dark aura that was impossible to see into. Yet somehow, Drake could see his lightsaber, and admired how it looked. Sleek, bound in black marble with the inscription, _Death should've have tooken you before. Now, you have met me!" _

Yes, he had much to admire. His max output was 1300 melkyrpes, significantly higher than Big Daddy's, but his blade was a full three inches smaller in circumference, making him think back to broad swords and rapiers from the pirate days. He had a rapier, and so he practiced moving quickly and exploiting his enemies weak points. Twist here, poke the liver and let the victim die from blood poisoning, scratch the heart, nick the Achilles nerve, which is rarely known but found where the nose meets the eye, behind the bone and cranium. There, if stimulated, the nerve caused total blindness for both eyes. He moved on, twisting, making sure his pack was secure: It had an incredibly dense object, which while nowhere near as powerful as a black hole, had an enhancer that increased the power, and targeted only protons. The lightsaber, unlike Big Daddy's which made a _vroom_ as it passed through the air, was more high pitched, and made an electronic _grr_ sound. Drake spun and dove his light-saber straight into the heart of an invisible opponent, and glanced his power. The setting current at 570 melkrypes, and he felt the tug slightly more strongly, but he just used this and made himself determined to be in control. As he downed his fifteen-thousandth opponent, he saw others file in, and fill the bleachers of the briefing room. Drake retracted his lightsaber that he had programmed to sound like: "You were not worth my elegance." whispered. It was quiet, so only Drake could hear it, but it too sent chills down him. Glancing down at the weapon, which was still dark, he soothed,

"_**You are my sentinel, my reaper, my ally...My Ghost!"**_

_**And with that is the end of Chapter 3  
**_**-LLL**


	4. Duel of Daddy and Drake

"So, what is the report on the weapon?" Crislin Dullvunnocha asked. The leader of DragonDen, known as Cranium smiled genuinely. "Why, watch, as we show you. Devilkin, Big Daddy, perform with your new found, Lightsabers!"

Drake and BD glanced around in confusion, while everyone else looked to everyone else. The weapons were new and unknown, one mishap could kill either person. Crislin's eyes twinkled coldly. "Yes, it has been a while since I saw a good bout. Men, show me what I'm wasting my money on." BD nudged Drake, he was shaking. "Come on man, we just won't go fast." Drake nodded, but Big Daddy was pretty positive it was a nod to not kill Dullvunnocha, pending some internal struggle. The two walked by, and the air got heady with anticipation. The men stood fifty yards apart, staring directly at each other, with smiles on their faces. Then, Big Daddy drew his lightsaber, and crouched, angling his body so his left shoulder was more towards Drake(Devilkin), and his lightsaber was pointed at the ground, almost identical to a samurai pose. With a press of a button, the beam shot out, and people gasped at the brilliance; Big Daddy smiled, and thought, "_Come on Ravage, let's see what we can do!" _Drake drew his lightsaber, and simply held it at his side, but turning it on with a flick of his wrist. With a simultaneous, bone-chilling howl, both moving charged at each other, feet drilling into the ground before launching them at each other. With a wild, two-handed swing, BD's Ravage clashed with Devilkin's Ghost. The blade flared up and the two men backed away, the kick-back more than they anticipated. Already there was clapping from the bleachers, and a boyish smile on Crislin's lips. Drake stared at BD and smiled.

"Wow man, we're even." BD smiled. "Not even close." And then he launched into an intricate system of stabs and slashes. What Drake didn't parry he evaded, leaping back until BD stopped, and then the two clashed again, their lightsabers meeting, and bodies leaning forward as they tried to put their weight against each other. BD smiled, and with a grunt forced Devilkin off-balance. The man spiraled as he fell, landing in a push-up pose before bringing his feet up and flipping to them. His back-handed lightsaber swing met BD's lightsaber just in time, and Drake moved forward. _How did I do that?_

BD wondered the same thing, His attack came from Drake's blind side, yet Drake matched it without turning around, as if he sensed the blade. He pushed the distraction away, and went on the defense. Ghost weaved and darted back, taunting Ravage into coming away so it, Ghost, could sever its connection to the holder. It was simple for a lightsaber, simply slice and whatever was there was there no more. But these two men, they were strange, friends yet now filled with battle-lust that differed from hitting a target miles away. This was in your face and it showed. Ghost leaned to the side and parried viciously, forcing Ravage off-balance from the recoil. To recover in time, Big Daddy retracted his blade and dropped low, sweeping Drake. The man was knocked down, and BD quickly rose and slashed down with a roar.

But Drake was faster, and rolled back the moment he hit the ground, before upper-slashing at BD's neck. The man leaped back and then lunged forward with a strike Drake had no choice but to block. The force knocked him down, but he used it move away. BD came at him again, but Drake still needed a reprieve, so he executed a front-flip over the man. It was close, with Drake's feet almost scraping the top of Big Daddy's head, but it worked, and Drake landed, brandishing his weapon. BD turned defensively and smiled. "Where'd you learn to jump like that?"

Drake frowned. "What do you mean? I almost scrapped off your head." Now BD frowned. "No, pretty sure you jumped 10 feet in the air _above _me." But Drake attacked before he could ponder such things. Blue clashed with green, brothers clashing together to create a fusion. The men by this time were gasping, and their clothes visibly wet. They were never moving extremely fast to begin with for fear of amputating each other, or themselves. Still, it was a dance, and Drake spun to BD's right before sliding on the floor and swiping and the man's legs. He was taller, and so forced to crouch, which is then when Drake spurred himself into another flip, but twisted so he landed with body aligned with Big Daddy's. Only BD rose at that moment and jumped back, smashing his frame into Drake's as they both fell to the floor. Both looked at each other, and then got up, rolling away before Drake threw Ghost.

Teal flashed tightly into an energy- UFO, whirling through the air. The audience gasped and watched as BD swore and slid under it. He swiped, and Devilkin threw himself back to avoid being hit. He landed hard and started towards his weapon when BD blocked his way, sweat pouring down his face and chest rising and falling rapidly. Drake glanced at his weapon, and then looked towards BD.

"Well, guess you win Big Daddy." He gave a slight smile, and Big Daddy returned it a second afterwards. He turned off his blade and shook Drake's hand, when Drake pushed him and dived towards his blade, catching it in one hand, and pushing himself over onto his feet with the other. BD's smile waned, as he restarted his blade, and swore. "That wasn't right Drake, tricking me. I guess now I'm just going to have to take your lightsaber; disarm you of it."

"Drake hissed defiantly, "Good luck with that." And the two sprung back at each other, BD swinging with the fullest force. Although Drake was filled with adrenaline, the chemical was not enough to make him an equal in strength against Big Daddy, and the man soon knocked Drake's lightsaber away so violently that it was no longer connected to the tesla coil but flew ten feet across the floor, and full-force kicked him in the chest as one would kicking down a door. The audience winced as Drake flew across the floor roughly and finally stopped, groaning as he got up slowly. BD in the meantime walked over to Drake's lightsaber, and picked it up. "_No, no! I am in the hands of the enemy. Master, Drake, save me! SAVE ME!"_

"Drake, are you okay?" BD asked from where he was. Drake coughed and then looked at BD spitefully. "Yeah, I am, now give me back my lightsaber."

BD pursed his lips. "Not until you admit defeat. I have your lightsaber, and you're not getting it back until otherwise."

"It's mine!"

"Well then," Big Daddy turned off the power battery that had been knocked loose when he kicked Drake, and Ghost turned off immediately. "you better learn to keep your lightsaber next time." BD turned around, and proclaimed, "I am the winner! Mr. Dunnovoocha, were you pleased with the exhibition?"

-Hope you enjoyed the action!- LLL


	5. Dreams and Destinations

The man stood smoothly, and smiled widely. "That was the coolest thing I have ever seen in my years." He turned to DragonDen's head, a short, stocky man known as Cranium; DragonDen's heads were named by parts of a Dragon: Cranium, Fang, Flame, Ignition, Claw, TailWhip, and Wing. Cranium ran the whole thing, and personally conferred with Crislin. Fang and Flame oversaw missions and looked for ways to exploit those who hired them, always looking for a better deal. Ignition is who the Shadows talked with, and talk with on missions while Claw and TailWhip oversee Weapons and Research. Last, Wing provided a front for the group, and several major news stations blackmailed into not showing any footage that had the Shadows depicted.

Crislin said to Cranium, "You are safe. Well done, well done indeed! I'll be seeing you all soon, and get those lightsabers made, but do not sell those. They are to be kept hidden, except for missions. Have a great day!' and Dunnovoocha left. BD turned to congratulate Drake, but he was already gone, and so was Ghost. BD frowned, Drake never did take losing anything lightly. With a sigh, he was soon surrounded by his fellow soldiers, and he forgot about Drake.

But Drake did not forget his defeat. After retreating to his room, he punched at his sandbags, and kicked his board. He wrung his hands over his bald head, and found a small ocean coming down, as well as blood pulsing right below the surface. He took a shower with his clothes on, letting the water wash away his shame. He'd lost, even though he tried. Every mistake he made flashed in Drake's eyes, and shame soon turned to humiliation as he imagined everyone else laughing at what he did wrong. Embarrassment soon turned to rage, and Drake got out the shower sopping wet. He looked at his lightsaber, Ghost. And then at his battery pack. It was such an inefficient design! If only there was a way for him move as he pleased without getting tangled up as he and BD had numerous times.

First however, he had to get stronger. With determination, he started to build a crank and kick machine.

Drake didn't go to dinner, and when Mouse wanted a rematch, he said he was busy. He didn't say it with the malice he felt, but Mouse didn't even assume. He attributed it to either exhaustion, or that Devilkin was really busy. Drake didn't touch his food until he took a short break. He was soaked in sweat again, and some of the water still wet on him. His limbs shook with fatigue, but he viewed this as Stamina Training. He would become better than BD, even if it took months. No, months was too long. By the end of the week, he will have asked a rematch with BD, and he shall then have his victory...

Big Daddy was happy. He was currently sitting at his desk, working out some letters an informant gave him about his family. Nothing much, some encoded letters that he had to decode. So close he knew he was to finding them. He'd been searching for so long, he just wished they would against all odds come to him, knock on his door. There he sat with his eye-glasses perched on his nose when someone knocked on the door. He stands, and asks, "Who is it?" No one replies and so he turns on his outside door camera, just in case it's Mouse with a prank to pull. One time BD opened the door only to get a face full of soda. The camera was installed that night.

No one was at the door, which confused him greatly. He would've heard someone running away, which they would've have to have done. BD sighed after a minute of nothing and went back to decoding, Ravage hooked to his pants. On that night, BD's desire for his family, and Drake's desire to win, unlocked what was already open, a combination that exposed a power that some cannot control, and many cannot achieve. But it will not be until later that BD realizes that the person who knocked, was himself.

Drake pulled himself up for the forty-second time. His muscles burned, but it was the best way to rouse yourself after you'd slept. He did a few more, and then stood in front of this Cank and Kick. The machine was as it was named:Pulling a crank a certain ways down controlled the intensity of the kick the machine dealt. It could be done manually, or set to do it at a random period, thus simulating Drake not expecting the kick during combat. It could also be changed to punches. Drake pulled the crank down halfway, and braced himself as the foot kicked forward in the same style Big Daddy kicked. Drake went flying through the air, pain spreading all through him as he crashed into his wall, and fell five feet to the floor. He groaned again, sure that one of his ribs were at the very least bruised. But he needed this, and so, he limped up to the machine, and pulled the crank again.

Mouse was playing cards with himself when the intercom voice said, "Shadows, please report to the Briefing Room now." Draining the rest of his non-alcoholic beer, Mouse got up and fell in some others walking past his door. As he did, he saw Drizzle was still wet from her swim, and grinned to himself as he looked her over repeatedly, and discreetly.

Once everyone was seated, Ignition looked at the troops, holding a clipboard. The man was rugged and wore a long-sleeved thermal and black dress pants. He had an ear-piece clipped to his ear, and finishing up a conversation with someone. When he was done, he clapped his hand. The room fell silent immediately.

"Okay team, great job getting the power source,. Now however, it would appear that a group of hostiles want what we procured. That's a no-no in my book. So we are moving what remains away from here, and to Base 2. While there, you will assist a group of rebels who are trying to secure their village near the coast of Africa facing Madagascar. The people who may be after us, may be the ones who are trying to take the town. They have limited food, horrible water supplies, precious ammunition, and sit on a wealthy of precious stones and gems bordered by many unexplored forests. Secure the town and a healthy perimeter, and we'll send in the builders who can get us some nice jewels and examine the forests. I'm sure our scientists will like that."

This brought smiles from all around, and the group was dismissed. Until Big Daddy raised his hand.

"Sir, that land is under rule of the Drug and Slave lord, Kanisha-Buindundilo. If we come onto his land, he may become another name to add to our list of enemies. What do we do with him?"

Ignition's brown eyebrows moved up quickly, as in, "_Stay tuned."_ "You're right BD. He shouldn't be allowed to continue his problems, that's why we exist, to make the world better. So, I have a special mission for you and Drake, report to my office. The rest of you, suit up and get ready for war."

The group was officially dismissed, and BD and Drake walked to the front, where Ignition stood. "Follow me men." he ordered, and the two followed.

"Have a seat." their commander gestured towards two empty chairs. They were plush with goose-down cushions, and cotton exteriors. Ignition took a seat behind his blodinagiem desk, and addressed the two.

"You two are different from the others, your weapons putting you in a different league. You also convey a different sense than others would brandishing a gun. You see, we don't want to offend the Drug-lord, or threaten him and make him go underground. We have him in our claws, now we need you two to bite off his head. "

"What is the assignment?" Big Daddy inquired, face blank.

"We are sending you two to propose a business deal. It is fake of course, but the job is to find out the lines of Buindundilo's business, and shut it down. Our agents are then to seize his assets and supplies, make them our own, and from there we we will proceed.

"Why us though? Why not make some more lightsabers, and then have someone better diplomats go?"  
Ignition's smile perked up. "Because it is the rare diplomat that can both talk his way out of trouble, be good at assassination, and know how to defend themselves. Not to mention, you two have already practiced with your lightsabers and James was called away for other matters. So we don't want to have a faulty lightsabers. You men are to use them, and also procure the riches that this Drug-Lord has stashed around his palace. Don't burn it to the ground though it you can help it, I'd prefer we could sell it off or something..."  
BD went back to his room and grabbed his battery pack. He clasped it over his bare back, and then wore his shirt over it. It was white and polyester to help keep some of the intense heat off him. Over that he wore a black suit with air-condition veins running through it. It would drain some of his battery, but keep him cooler during the day and in combat. In his suitcase he packed his notes, a phone only his informants knew, and a chain that his daughter gave him before she went to school that morning. He'd went to work, and came home to find them "dead." Closing the glossy suitcase, he put an arm shield gauntlet around his wrist. It clicked into place, and he tightened it. At a single touch of any of his fingers against it, and a bullet-proof shield extending three feet away from his arm in every direction would activate, as well as encompassing his hand in a bullet-proof glove of metal. Smiling at his little invention, Big Daddy walked out the door in his pressed black pants, ready for a life of deception.  
Drake went to his room, but unlike Big Daddy clipped objects to his velcro vest. Instead of documents however, Drake selected three knives, a pistol with two mags to carry around for those ranged battles he knew will occur, and last, a grenade. He turned on his lightsaber once to make sure it was functional, and then turned it off. He dressed himself in a thin shirt, and then fastened a cloak around his shoulders. It was leather, to keep out the sands, and also came with a of snowy owl feathers billowing down the middle of it in a crest, and a black hood otherwise. It wrapped around him perfectly, and Drake smiled before fastening a mask to his face to keep out the intense sands from his lungs and eyes. Everything concealed by the article of clothing that fell to his Achilles tendon, Drake embarked to the hangar, only a quiet hiss from his breathing as he exited his room silently.  
Both men met at the ship when Ignition came up to them. "You both ready?" he asked, and the men nodded. Ignition noted at how Drake was dressed, and how it made sense, BD had a certain charisma to him that would place him as the one in charge. "Oh by the way!" he stated, pulling out two chips. They were silver squares with thin lines running over them, maybe a millimeter high at most.  
"What are these?" Drake rasped as he took his.  
"Microphones, so you can hear what each other are saying, and as well as feeling. It goes right under your tongue, so you can tell by the quantity of spit passing over it if the person is under duress. If so, then yours will beep, but only you will hear it, as it sends a message to your brain. Don't worry about swallowing either, these bad-boys won't disengage." Both of them men nodded and placed them in their mouths. Ignition shook both their hands. "Good luck Jedi."  
Big Daddy frowned. "What is that word?"

Ignition smiled slightly "It's a word my father use to use when I was a kid. It means 'Dream-protector' in some language lost to us. It was suppose to be that these knights existed on a realm higher than humans, and fought while we slept, using our dreams to find bad people in the world, so when we woke, all our problems were gone and we felt great. Not everyone could have Jedi however, because they were few, and hunted by Dream-destroyers known as the Sith, a play off Sinister. These could kill Jedi, because they used the darkness behind dreams to blind and ensnare the Jedi, and it was so fun to warp a mortal's dream into a nightmare. They tapped into the darkest evils, but the Jedi did not so we could at the very least sleep soundly. The battles however gave us bad nights. These were just stories, but it made me feel as if I knew why I was sleeping badly. So, be the Jedi, and make sure we all sleep rich and soundly."

BD and Drake nodded as they boarded a Jet known as the Light Lancer. As the men took their seats and the ship took off with a bang, BD took a nap, snoring lightly as he dreamed of being reunited with his loved ones, and sharing the dreams of the Jedi with his children. The Sith however, he would rid the world of them and no one would ever endanger his family again. Drake however, thought of his thirst for power. He started to think of his fight with Big Daddy.. He had done things he had never been able to do before, and was enlightened when he did it. He wondered if he could possibly do such feats again, if he could twist reality to his control, become a Sith...

After all, who says we aren't always dreaming?

Or even more, who say's we aren't the figments of a dream?

Drake smiled.

"_I shall give reality the nightmare it needs for the world to wake up. From here on, I will be known as Drake to my allies. To my foes, I shall be a foe of darkness, forever powerful, forever evil. I shall be known as, Darth Reaper."_

"_That isn't good_." BD murmured, and then frowned. How could he hear Drake's thoughts? Were they even his thoughts, surely Drake was not this way?

"What are you thinking about?" Drake rasped. Big Daddy realized he had spoken aloud. "Nothing." he returned, and he closed his eyes. Nevertheless, BD would be on the watch, and if needed, he would end the threat that had become his friend.

-**_Sorry to those of you who think I just screwed up some major mythology of Star Wars, but I don't have the money to go out and buy every comic. So, hopefully you enjoyed my analogy. Have a good day! Also, did you hear that Disney bought out LucasArts for 4.1 billion dollars_**

**_?! The newest film is currently slated for 2015, and I can't wait. I just know it's going to be amazing.- LLL_**


	6. Dune of Disillusion

Mouse snored loudly, dreams of coffee and ice-cream punctuating his thoughts while Alamo quietly listened to music on his IPOD 9. It was basically the shell of an IPhone 5, but he'd revamped it up to futuristic standards. It called people, could display you holographically, trace you, take pictures in all electromagnetic spectrums and five hundred different shades, graph as a calculator would, explode, and unleash an EMP powerful enough to disrupt the workings of an 8-wheeler. Oh, and it played music.

Alamo was currently listening to "Fire Burning" by Sean Kingston. It was one of his favorites, as it pumped him up the right way before he went off to a prolonged battle. His eyes were open, and he recalled all his time with and before DragonDen.

They recruited an overweight, 21-year old man who had run up several million dollars in debt. The reason he wasn't dead, he spent the money on explosives, and threatened to blow up several buildings, monuments, and meeting areas of various trades. So all backed off with their hands raised. From a young age, Alan"Alamo" had a no-die attitude many attributed with his Spanish heritage, and his great-grandfather having fought and died in the place. He blew up his first kitchen at the age of six, when he realized hydrogen did not respond well to the fire beneath a stove. The accident left his hormones off-balance and pituitary gland damaged, so he grew taller than he expected, and then also receded in size, while putting on weight very rapidly. By the age of ten he had a mustache, was six-two, and weighed two hundred fifty-nine pounds.

Then he went to high-school, where he shrunk to five-four, yet weighed 153 pounds. Doctors worried about him, but his parents just told him to never die. So he didn't, even when days were harsh and kids taunted him. _"Hey you Mexican. Had too much for lunch today? Oh what did you pack, Herpes?!"_ Endless laughter, and he got in numerous fights, his body not reacting as many would think with his weight and frame. Alamo learned to wrestle, and by the time he was 18, he was the number one wrestler in New York. Many thought he took steroids, but once he got out of high-school, Alamo went dark, sending occasional messages to his parents, mostly from encrypted areas while he held bomb threats over people. His parents did not try to turn him away from his life-style, they just warned him to not die.

Not die. Alamo smiled, and thought of all the times he could've died. The numbers were in the hundreds. How they were once shot out of the air by rebels in Egypt, a bullet that got lodged in his ribs, the one right in front of his heart. The time he was captured rescuing Devilkin, and he had to wait three days before they got **him** out. In that time, he had been tortured with fire, beaten, and about to be given to the men he still owed money, and many other things too. But Alan was still here, ready to kick ass.

_"How's that for being Mexican?"_ he thought smugly, and duly noted that they were descending as the air-pressure on his ears lessened, and it no longer felt awkward to swallow. Mouse's snores grew deeper as the air around them grew more dense, and Alamo turned up his music a little louder while the other men around him stirred and started talking. Alamo turned up his volume half way, but it still drowned everything else. He smiled and reached for his Shotgun, which gleamed in the red-light. It had killed many, and he shrugged. "Screw lightsabers, I got a shotgun!" And the group landed.

The sun shone brightly over the world that Mouse and Alamo associated it with. It seemed larger here, and more bright thanks to the clean air. They were virtually no trees around , which freaked Mouse out since he thought they were in the savannah, only to be told they were near the ocean. Rolling washes of sand and sea salt-filled wind periodically drove through, slamming grains against the soldiers as they traveled the designated ten miles they were assigned, as to get a feel for the terrain, and so the ship would not be shot at. As they neared a three mile distance away from the settlement, Alamo stopped, and kneeled, scooping up a cup full of sand before pouring it in his mouth. The group stopped at this spectacle, standing guard, sitting, or taking swigs from canteens and water bottles. Many bags were strapped to their backs, full of ammo, things to do between battles, security measures, food, and in some perverts' cases, condoms. It was cruel and sick, but it was assumed that with most of the men in this village dead or fighting, the wives didn't have much "fun." Mouse and Alamo didn't object to such a thing, but they didn't prey on having women. Mouse let some water dribble down his chin as he gulped greedily. It was hot, even with the heat-expelling armor, and he was very active, jogging a bit in his effort to increase his running stamina.

After about a minute, Alamo spit out the sand and washed his mouth out with some beer he packed. As he spit it out, he barked, "This way!" and started walking east. No one really spoke out against him, Alamo was rarely clear on what he said, but it was also rarely wrong. Mouse however, didn't ever agree with what Alamo said.

"Why are we going east mate? The village is over that ridge."

"The sand has traces of sweat, and gasoline. Meaning people traversed this area within a few days, as the sun had enough time to bake in the massive quantities of salt."

"An army." Drizzle caught on, and Alamo nodded. He moved a ways to the east, sun gliding right with him. There came upon an imprinted area that carried faint, but still visible remnants of the enemy camp. Alamo crouched low and resumed,"The village must've been overwhelmed with an army this size, but according to satellite updates there is a back-up village to the east. But in order to avoid capture or being followed the refugees and survivors made a section of underground tunnels. That's why I tasted the sand for so long, I was tasting for everything this sand blew across. I got, wood, sun-baked mud, skin covered in grime, and metal from what I presume to be a tunnel now judging from the village being overrun and the tunnel, we go east."

"Hey everyone! You might want to come see this!" A man named Aresole screamed. He was one of the best snipers in the team, and could see all the better because he was far-sighted to the near extreme. Alamo and the rest grouped around him, following his finger. About a mile away, a small village, surrounded by massive dunes and walls, was underfire by a massive group of soldiers, Buildings smoked and fire was visible, by the roar as gunfire was exchanged set everyone's blood on fire. This, is why they had come.

"Men, move out!" Alamo shouted, and they began their sprint into the hands of War and Anarchy. Aresole landed down on his belly, and took the first offensive shot.

The LightLancer cut through the air at supersonic speeds, but inside was highly suited so individuals felt as though there was no change in outside pressure and altitude. BD woke as they descended, and saw Drake with his eyes closed, his respirator almost completely silent with the combination of light breathing and BD not really paying attention to him. As the ship decloaked, they both stood up and exited out into a prosperous oasis. The water was a pure sky-blue, and reflected Big Daddy's face perfectly as groups of sand-trees right near it fanned the area.

"So this is where all the water in the desert went to..." BD joked, but Drake made no mention of laughing. His head was already on the mission. "Are you ready?" he rasped, and BD nodded. Drake lifted a detonator, and blew up the LightLancer.

Well...he didn't actually blow it up. But it unleashed a fake barrage of explosions and holographic metal while the real LightLancer flew off in cloak. Fire belched and roared, while Drake stood in front of the wreckage, his cloak flapping in the wind while BD cupped his hand and drank some spring water. "Yo Devilkin( they used real names whenever not on missions, and sometimes on missions), how long until they send people to see what was that?" he asked between gulps.

"Not long, I can almost feel them coming." Drake replied. It was true, Big Daddy had become increasingly conscious of Drake's presence throughout his entire journey, so much so that it was impossible to truly sleep. It reminded him of Drake's increased agility and precognition when they first fought. And now, BD was hearing whispers from everything around him, the ship, whispering that it was proud to serve him, but to watch Drake. The water, that almost rose in its eagerness to quench his parched throat. And now, he sensed that five men were coming in a SandRider 49 military jeep.

Ten seconds later, the group stopped about 30 feet before Drake, speaking rapidly in Swahili. Drake stood impassively, not yielding as they angrily brandished their guns and pointed at him to come. BD was hidden behind a sand dune, but he could almost see them with his new senses. He could hear their hearts beating, slowly and collected despite their vigorous gestures; these men were more than they appeared. Finally, one of the men shot a bullet right at Drake, a grand shot right between the eyes.

Only the bullet swerved right by Drake an inch before it was to kill him. The men stood, horrified, as Drake pulled open his cloak, and pulled free his lightsaber. Big Daddy heard the sound as the blade elongated, and then a barrage of gunfire. There was a short reprieve, and then a lot of frustrated yelling. Then the first scream, and soon the guns fired, but started lessening in volume, meaning there were less people firing because well, Drake was doing his thing. As he brought down another man, leaving two left, Drake turned off his lightsaber, and rolled, bypassing a soldier who was reloading. The man threw himself away, but Drake was faster, and sliced him in half during his mid-air flight.

The flesh automatically cauterized from the extreme heat, there was no bloodshed, only two limp pieces that fidgeted with the last messages from nerves dying off. The remaining African started pleading, BD heard the gun drop in the sand as if it was right next to him. He came out from behind the rock, and saw Drake quietly asking the man about all he knew. When he was done, Drake brought his lightsaber down with a quick slash, and the headless body slumped off, almost silently landing in the sand.

"We may go." Drake announced, and BD followed as the two headed away from the green shade of the trees, and towards a mammoth palace that seemed more like a mountain than anything else. When the entrance, a dark burgundy metal seeming to be titanium, was visible, Drake and BD met thirty men sent to intercept them. A bare-chested male with skin black as obsidian stepped forward, his arm holding a spiked whip.

"What did you do to our patrol?" he asked in almost no accent. Drake's cloak billowed in the wind, so BD answered, "We did not see any patrol. Perhaps they got lost in the sands?"

The man spat at the dirt. "We have footage of you- his finger pointed at Drake- killing them."

Drake smiled behind his mask, but the others could not see it, except for Big Daddy who felt it. "I do not know this character. We met up on the way here and I assumed we both had business with your master."

This enraged the captain. "We are not slaves!"

BD raised his hands in compliance. "I did not say that, but I will apologize nevertheless."

The captain nodded, satisfied with this answer. "You, may go inside. But he...will die out here."

BD bowed slightly. "You are most kind. Please make quick work of him, he was not the best of company." Big Daddy walked past the congregation with the captain escorting, glancing back at Devilkin right behind the group and mouthing, "Kill them all." Devilkin smiled again, and drew his lightsaber as the bullet shower began.

The last man stared, inebriated with fear. Once the gunfire started, Drake was able to melt the bullets with his blade before one touched him. As the group started to reload, he made his move, feeling his agility surge up as he quickly bounded in the group and began slicing and swinging away. Many tried to overwhelm him with brute force and sheer numbers, but a tingling in Drake built and built as he fought, growing and rearing and empowering him with the strength of hundreds. He decapitated, stabbed, poked, jabbed, but made no one-fell swoops like he had last fight. He was the rapier, twisting and leaving fate to bleed his opponents dry. At least that way, he was not the only murderer. And as he was attacked by three men, his tingling grew into a wave, and he screamed as the men flew back with quick velocities. They all crashed in the sand, tens of feet from Drake, who went down on one knee in fatigue. But he was not done, even though the force of which he had air-pushed the men had broken their spines. He bared down on the last soldier, the one inebriated, and with a quick slash, he was dead.

Alone and tired, Drake trudged up to the palace.

BD looked at his quarters, which were both lavish yet comfortable. The captain had said he would be back soon with the drug lord, but first he had to check on the status of Drake. Big Daddy nodded as if he hoped Devilkin was dead, but he was mentally calculating how they would get Kanisha-Buindundilo. Once all the men were discovered so viciously slaughtered, Buindundilo would be guarded by hundreds of soldiers, all of which would try to kill Drake. His sense told him Drake was currently scaling the roof-tops, stealthing the guards as a video-game character would. Still, it would take the two of them to get Buindundilo. But how to also get his business closed too would only add to the mayhem. He needed a way of chatting up Buindundilo in such without alerting the man to his schemes.

Or…he could find out the damn information himself. Big Daddy smiled to himself, and opened the door. He had a knack this would be quite interesting a mission.

Drake slid down the roof and fell on a guard who stood watch carefully, watching for everything from_** below**_. The neck gave way before he could utter a word, and Drake rose as he entered the room. And there he stopped.

A beautiful woman with the skin of almonds was dressed in an almost-see through gown of wind silk, which were threads so well sewn they looked like moth wings, the slightest breeze sending a ripple through them. Her eyes were naturally lined with eyeliner almost, so her topaz eyes contrasted all the more while her mouth was a perfect oval. Her skin was a well-oiled, although it looked natural. She smiled as Drake gave pause, for she knew what a killer he was. And Drake knew who she was…

"Anatricla…"he breathed, so it sounded like Death's whisper. She gave him a sad smile, a single, perfect tear running down her face.

"Hello Drake." She sobbed, and then Big Daddy's daughter shot him in the chest.

-**Hope you liked that one, and thanks for the reviews!-LLL**


	7. Double-Cross and DragonDen's Destruction

Mouse fired off his grenade launcher, the tiny orb arching through the desert air. The soldiers behind the wall scattered, and the two foot diameter explosions propelled debris twelve feet into the sky before crashing back down, blackened. The others were in various areas, sniping, laying down fire, or escorting trapped people out to the medic area the Shadows had established. Once Aresole had fired his shot, and taken down the enemy general, the men fired at random, some shooting each other in hopes of hitting Aresole. Not one bullet came within twenty yards of him, and Aresole quickly fired two more rounds before the men triangulated to him. But a smokescreen was deployed in that instant, and Aresole switched on his PulseScope.  
"We have three men in the center, I'm taking them." He marked them with his red scanner, so any other person looking through their eyes-scopes will know that man is targeted, and can move on to other potential threats. The three troops Aresole marked were killed, and Mouse slid to his belly before pulling the trigger of his grenade launcher. The air was criss-crossed with bullets and smoke, which looked like black wind in the desert sun. Alamo came up behind a man and snapped his neck while Drizzle launched her arrows from her bow. Shadow 3 was down by the village, helping the refugees move away, and be tended too. Mouse came up from his prone position and started with his submachine gun, taking out scores while bullets struck him, and bounced off. He yelled and shrieked, shooting and shooting while keeping a close eye on his energy shield. It was at 6%, he could take only three more bullets before he had to rely on body armor, which while effective, would cause him to hurt a lot.  
Alamo fired his Quad-Shotgun, taking down five men (a bullet went through one and hit another). The six in the group ran away, trying to reach into the microphone he couldn't quite grab. _"No way in hell you're escaping me..."_Alamo thought as he gave chase. Through thongs of abandoned stalls and wheelbarrows he hunted, always keeping the African(not to be racist) within sight of him. The man dropped his pistol as he turned to fire, and Alamo gained greatly before the man got off to full speed. For about a mile they ran, until it was apparent Alamo would catch his prey, and so the African busted down a door and threw his knife at the door, sure Alamo, with being so close behind him, would run into it. Only Alamo veered off, and threw himself through the open window on the African soldier's left. He gasped and started up the stairs, finally getting a grip on his walkie-talkie, but failing to bring it to his mouth as Alamo grabbed his foot and pulled. With a sharp kick to Alamo's face, he freed himself, and started further up the stairs. Alamo, momentarily stunned, but not injured clocked his gun. He wasn't going to play anymore. Up the stairs he started again, rolling into the room while the African swung high, anticipating Alamo to run in after him. Getting up before his prey could turn around, Alamo fired his gun, and the wall exploded with parts of it intermingled into what use to be a living man. He sighed from his exhilarating chase, and then remembered how far he was from the frontline.

Once on the roof, he took a quick look the scene, and frowned. Tanks of Red and gold painting moved in from the left, but what caught Alamo off-guard was that the Shadows didn't use tanks. No sooner did he take a guess of whose they were before he heard Aresole call, "All units all units! Enemy reinforcements! It's Alcatri's men!" Alamo closed his eyes in a quick prayer, Alcatri was DragonDen's competitor, and was in some ways better than the Shadows, when their assault team, the Novas, came to play. He put on his Eyescope, and threw himself off a roof just as a tank blew the area he was just standing on to rubble. Alamo, enshroudded in it, crashed into the sand. Quickly ignoring his bleeding leg, he rose and crawled in through an abandoned window. It gave way with a weak _crash_, which was drowned out by the cannon fire. Clocking his shotgun, and kicked out the door and threw a grenade.

Cranium's hand touched the finger-print scan of Mr. Dunnovoocha's gate. It did a quick pulse, made a tiny beep, and then released him from it proton grip. If he were an unregistered person, the machine would bind him there until one of the Thunders, Crislin's own personal guard, which exterminate his threats, came to investigate. Cranium waited for a minute, and then his patience began to wear thin. Where was Dunnovoocha? He began to wonder if anything wrong had occurred, but the Thunders weren't exactly mall cops, they often trained the Shadows, and bested them. Five minutes later, and Cranium knew something was wrong. The house now looked too quiet, too devoid of life. Pulling out and making a wide spin, Cranium headed for the road just as his heart stopped. It was so sudden that he didn't even yell, just die as an influx of protons created a strong nuclear force inside his heart, and stopped it. The car swerved out of control, and twisted into a thicket of 300 year old pines. The crash that resulted didn't even move them. And on the floor of his own living room, Crislin Dunnovoocha smiled, and sipped his ice-tea.

The shock from the bullet knocked Drake down, and Big Daddy's daughter advanced, an evil smile playing on her face. Drake's relief quickly turned into confusion, which vaporized into anger. Screw if she was Big Daddy's daughter, she was not his girl anymore. As soon as she got within the distance she wanted so she could shoot him in the head, he rolled to his right and pushed up with his hands. Anatricla fired and missed twice as Drake moved faster than she could interpret. However, she was a smart girl, and what she couldn't interpret, she ran from. Drake drew his lightsaber and turned it on as she reached her wall 20 feet from Drake and hit an alarm. She put on her earplugs just as a sonic pulse immobilized Drake, making him scream in pain. Blood ran from his facial orifices as he writhed on the cotton floor in pure agony, and two guards entered the room with shock batons. They attacked with the sizzling electrical ends, and Drake passed out as the men withdrew. Anatricla stepped forward. "Take him to my father.  
Buidundilo."

Big Daddy tore through the halls, blasting out his new perception as he looked for Drake. He causally had been walking through the halls, asking the occasion English-speaking guard where he might find the restroom. And then he continued on his way. Until the alarm sounded, and he knew either Drake had been caught, or the bodies had been found. He was hoping it was option B, but what he hoped for never was the fact, so he ran for Drake, one hand on the hilt of Ravage. Hallway, corridor, passage, walking space, he ran through several, until he came upon a room with several people in it. And one of them was Drake. Sliding up to the wall, he listened to Drake's screams, and then the electric bite of what could only be a Shock-Baton. He took in a deep breath, taking in all his surroundings. Soldiers from all over were on their way, the alarm for this room incongruous from all the others. Then he heard, "Take him to my father." But that made no sense, how would Anatricla know he was there? And why was she there?! And then he heard the rest of the sentence.  
"Buidundilo." He was confused, why did she say Buidundilo was her father? He was absolutely sure she was his daughter, but he pushed away his befuddlement, Drake needed him, and he would be damned if- A strike to the back of the head, and Big Daddy fell forward, unconscious.  
Anatricla turned, and smiled. She knew saying those words would throw off BD, even if they were true. And Arswatt was the one person who could sneak up on anybody…He turned the corner and spat on Big Daddy before kneeling and taking his lightsaber. "Damn, I've always wanted one of these." He pocketed it and rose as Anatricla reloaded her gun. "Good work you idiot." She complimented, and Arswatt smiled. "Well, the guy's footfalls are quite heavy." Anatricla snickered before turning the guards. "Bring them to Buidundilo, but watch for Drake, he moves faster than is the norm."  
She turned back to Arswatt with a smirk as the two were dragged from the room. "Have you notified Dunnovoocha that this is done?"  
It was now Arswatt's turn to smile as they left after the guards. "It's Dunnovoocha. The man knows everything."  
Ignition scowled as his phone once again failed to reach Cranium. I mean, the man was the most well-connected soul in the world, save maybe Dunnovoocha and Alcatri. His phone should be at least ringing, not emitting a dead signal.  
Dead signal... Ignition looked around command fiercely, his expression of panic uncharacteristic with himself, and making everyone else panic too. "What wrong sir?" A satellite monitor asked him.  
"What are the codes for Cranium's phone?" He yelled, pulling out his phone. A woman named Atom started to reply, "Why do you-  
"Goddamnit woman just give me the bloody codes!" He interjected, looking back down at his phone immediately. Atom flinched, but quickly returned with a, "2-Delta9-6-77-Alpha7- Quanta3- XMinor 7 to the Negative 3, all over zero." Ignition did the math in his head, and his phone let out a banshee wail that forced everyone to yell in pain and cover their ears. It stopped after a few moments, but the message was clear.  
"Cranium's dead. Evacuate!" Ignition ordered. The room transformed into a flurry of intense typing as computers crashed, data disappeared into their unhackable data well, and monitors exploded to destroy all their electron memory. Those who finished early ran out the room and into a hallway, while Ignition barked to the Shadows, "All Units All Units. The base is compromised; Cranium is dead. Get out of there, and go Midnight! Repeat Go midnight!" He clicked the earpiece off and ran after the others. The building to self-destruct in a mere three minutes. Running to his room, he grabbed his Alpha100 Pistol, and a few pieces of paper work that would allow him to hide from most of his enemies.  
Two minutes...  
Ignition raced out to the garage, which was empty, meaning everyone had the evacuation procedure down to the last syllable. Looking back at the building as he started his car, a Gold Gallarado, Ignition looked back at the DragonDen.  
"Whoever killed you Cranium, will pay **very **dearly for this..." And he drove away as the Dragon exhaled its final flame in a blemish of fire and light.

-**Hope you liked. Gonna be doing overtime for all my stories over Thanksgiving. Thanks to all, I love you guys and girls...-LLL**


	8. Dunnovoocha's Double-CrossDaddy's Doom!

**Holy crap everyone it has been forever since I updated this story. So sorry about that, but the drive just wasn't there. I'll try and keep the next update within a week or so. And please review, even if you are a guest, it's always appreciated!-LongLoreLover**

Big Daddy and Drake were dropped on the floor, where they groaned. In front of them, was Buindundilo. "Why are you here?" Big Daddy stood and brushed some of the dust off of his suit, it was after all, a _really_ expensive suit. Drake meanwhile stayed on the ground, body curling up as residual aftershocks coursed through him.  
"Mr. Buindundilo! It truly is an honor to meet one of the biggest crime lords in Africa. Cranium from Dragon Den sends his regards, as well as Crislin Dunnovoocha." At that name, Buindundilo bursted in laughter. "You fools! Crislin Dunnovocha is the one who told me you'd come." Big Daddy was thoroughly shocked, his heart stopped beating for but a milisecond, but he wasn't going to let his opponent know that, he'd register this information later. For now, he just needed to get Drake and himself out of here.

"Well that is...interesting. Perhaps you'll tell me more from the prison cell you'll be at while awaiting trial." Buindundilo laughed again. "My friends, you will not live any longer than a few more minutes from now."

Big Daddy looked at Drake, and saw him rising. His eyes had a fire in them BD knew well, the fire revenge was associated with. Anatricla came into the room just then with Arswatt, who waved Ghost and Reaper in BD and Drake's faces. Big Daddy decided to go on the offensive. "Arswatt, give us back our lightsabers please."

"Why, so you jerks won't use them? You fools should use these as the ultimate weapon, you could rule anything with these, although the battery pack on yours Big Daddy is quite cumbersome. Big Daddy quickly glanced at Drake, who stopped breathing. BD noticed the pause in breath, and shoving his fingers against his gauntlet, his arm-shield deployed. He rolled forward while Drake tossed him one of his pistols, and Big Daddy started firing at Buindundilo while Drake shot his hand forward, and sent the Crime-Lord flailing backward. The war-lord slid across the floor but a few moments, but rolled to the side while Anatricla returned fire at Drake, causing in him to retreat behind a statue of a tree. Big Daddy fired three rounds, yet they were intercepted by other guards, who feel wordlessly. Buindundilo, realizing the closeness of his death, fled out a side-door, several soldiers, and Anatricla following him. Drake took off after him, outstretching his hand by instinct towards Arswatt while several men around him were shoved back in the walls by Big Daddy. Ghost flew out of the Arswatt's hand and zoomed through one guard's chest before fitting smoothly into his hand, and turning off as Drake took off through the door. Arswatt looked at his hand in confusion and then grunted as Big Daddy shot him.  
"Asshole!" he roared, and then fell back as Buindundilo's guards unleashed the fury of their automatics against Big Daddy's arm shield. He fired through a mini-slit in his shield, and fell back to a doorway, crouching extremely low to keep his feet from being blown off. His pistol's chamber clicked empty, and Big Daddy used his left hand to reload a magazine from his suit. He thought of a calling for the others' help when he noticed a several warnings shown on his watch, where twelve hands were pointed at three different signs, each meaning trouble had arisen. The hands were on R, AN, and G.  
Reckoning, Ambush by Nova, and Ghost. Reckoning meant that DragonDen's base had been destroyed, Ambush by Nova meant as it stated, and Big Daddy hoped his friends would hold off until he and Drake arrived. And Ghost meant only one thing, although Big Daddy found it as a shock.  
Ghost meant that Stephen had returned. But BD's watch only worked based on a major fiber optic database, which spoke of events as other people saw them.  
And who better for Stephen to reappear in front of other than his brother? A bullet tore through BD's shield, cutting his cheek as it blazed by. Big Daddy hissed as he inhaled, and hoped that Drake would be able to handle such an unexpected reunion. He fired the last rounds of his clip, and watch his opposition scatter, except for Arswatt, who growled, and then turned Ravage on. The lightsaber flickered, and Arswatt sneered, holding the blade as if it was a club, high above his head, so he could _bonk_ someone in the head. BD remembered something James lectured him, and said, "You dumby, you really think that such a thin beam is going to cut me, I'm all muscle!" It was true, Ravage's beam was no wider than a copper wire, and was a measly ten melkrypes.  
Arswatt quickly looked at the battery pack, and switched the nozzle to 1000 melkrypes. The green bladewithdrew, and then shot out into a torment five feet out, the graviton field actively been seen trying to hold the energy inside its field and not escape. Arswatt grunted, and then started to scream as his hair flew towards the blade, and actually pieces of skin started to stretch. Big Daddy grimaced as Arswatt's hand started towards the battery pack, and his head was then torn off his body, and flew towards Ravage before being bursting into ashes with contact. The body held the lightsaber for but another second, before it fell on the igneous rock floor. Ravage fell to the ground, blade hissing slightly while the blade's tip withdrew, and then extended.. Big Daddy disengaged his shield from the slot that held it on his arm, and immediately went for the battery pack. His hand singed as it touched the pack, sending his nerves into agony, but he fought through the pain and turned the nozzle off, hoping it would quit. Ravage's torment roared green for but a few more seconds and it abated back into what seemed to be the fathomless pit of the lightsaber. Big Daddy sighed, and then pulled his hand from the lightsaber, only it didn't let him go. He tried to disengage himself again, but his hand would not let go of the battery pack. Then, the stench of burned flesh hit him, like a wave of garbage. BD gasped, and watched as his left hand started to black, as if burning from the inside out, and it fell off.  
The shock was so astounding that Dwayne didn't even fully register it. Nor did he feel as his veins and cells in his arm cried out, and his muscle started to degenerate. His eyes stared ahead, opened to their fullest extent, his arm was soon no more thick than a branch. He could see his veins flowing blue blood throughout their passage, until his skin hit a tone of green that he could not see through. He looked at the alien body part for button a second more, before he collapsed, his body sounding hollowly throughout the empty room.  
Drake had taken off after Buindundilo but a few minutes prior. His lightsaber snapped to his hand with an unknown passion, but he didn't pursue a reason. It was his anyways! Ghost's disgust at being held by Arswatt made Drake fill with fury, so much he actually stopped, torn between his pursuit of the drug-lord, and the man who touched his own permanent part of life. The part that should never had left him. "_No. Big Daddy can handle that dumbass. We have to stop Buindundilo."_he rationalized, and started forward again when he suddenly was looking...from everywhere. He was everything, and everything was him, showing the contours of everything. His breathing stopped as he took in air from even the air itself, elating himself into a state of supremacy. He viewed his body, still as a statue, lightsaber in hand, cloak seemingly frozen in time. And at the end of the hall, about to turn the corner, was Buindundilo, frozen in mid-stride, several men behind him, while Anatricla was turned, mouth opened and eyes on fire. They held automatics, and seemed less than thrilled they were running with a target, but they would most certainly face death if they fled, and Buindundilo lived. Drake was confused, Buindundilo was out of his view by the time he got here. So why was he here now? And not moving?  
Drake suddenly was seeing through his own eyes again, he felt a living feel to his body again, unlike the walls where he appeared to be stiff and frozen..."_Wait! That's it!" _Drake closed his eyes, giving into the tingling fingers of the objects around him, and was suddenly stiff again, but like a wall, he was seeing through its eyes. Where everything was frozen in time, or moving so slowly it seemed frozen. And if you a wall is the same throughout,.. you can see as the whole wall. Taking in a breath, he was suddenly seeing from the corner where Buindundilo was. The man didn't appear to notice him, just be in mid-talk about something. And along the length of the next wall, Buindundilo's making every action as he ran had Drake feeling he was looking a 3-D storyboard with immaculate detail. **Buindundilo raises leg, Buindundilo steps down with heel-first.** Drake watched his forms, and the forms of his cohorts round the corner. But something else caught his attention. One of the men stayed behind for a short time, arming a claymore explosive. Returning to his own body, and smiled. He took off, rounding the corner and then diving far over the explosive, which triggered regardless due to his proximity. The explosive was strong, but Drake was already at the end of the eighty-foot long corridor, Ghost now on. With a feral yell, he charged into the room.  
Alamo swore as a Nova crashed through the wall behind him, fully aware of the Shadow's Door Assault tactic. He turned around, and watched as the soldier, clad in his red armor suit, looked around to show his large black eye-visors, and beak that contained numerous sensors, but also gave a whole to realm of pain and danger in head-butting. Alamo turned on his energy shield just as the Nova raised his hand repulsor, and fired an energy pulse. Alamo's force field shorted out as he was sent through the wall. With such a huge chunk of dried sand gone, the whole tan wall collapsed into a cloud of dust as Alamo rolled. His back was sore, but he could not be caught in the open with a Nova, not if he wished to live another day. He raised his shotgun and fired without mercy, but the slugs ricocheted off without leaving so much a fiscal dent. The Nova stared at him, and Alamo went with his back-up plan.  
"Wait!" he shouted, raising his hands up and dropping his shotgun into the dust. The Nova made no motion of attacking him, it just stared. Alamo took it as a sign to continue. "Why are you attacking us?" The Nova shrugged. "I don't know. Our boss just said that Dunnovoocha has gone crooked. And we know that you are his men, and that you set that trap for us at NorthWay..." Alamo nostrils flashed. "What the hell are you talking about?! **We** were ambushed at NorthWay, and that place was totalled when we got there."  
"Impossible. We were most impossibly there the twenty-first of November." The Nova replied, causing Alamo sat down on a large chunk of rock, holding his head in his scarred hands. The whole thing made nonsense. Why would Alcatri think Dunnovoocha had gone rogue, and even send his Nova's after the Shadows? They had an agreement to never engage each other, for It was known that while the Shadows weren't technologically superior to the Nova's, they far outnumbered them in soldier quantity. The Shadows would take an initial beating, but in no time they would overwhelm the Novas, especially in open-terrain. And sure enough, the Novas were already retreating, with the sound of their tanks now gone. The Nova in front of Alamo looked up, slits narrowing.  
"We've been betrayed." he said, and Alamo looked at him. "What makes you say that?" The premise made sense to him, however it would be a hard thing for Alamo to take in. The Nova didn't respond, just continue looking up. The air seemed to suddenly drop a few degrees as Alamo looked up, and saw a red dot in the sky. To anyone else in the area it could've been anything, a balloon or kite. But to the Shadows and Novas, it was Alcatri's satellite cannon, aimed directly at them. The surrounding sky flashed red, and the Nova bowed his head as a boom louder than the crashing of an ocean erupted, causing the atmosphere to shimmer in fright. Alamo clenched his ears, and collapsed, looking up just in time to see a red beam the size the sun in the sky bear down on them.


	9. Uh-Oh

**Hey it's LongLoreLover. I'll update this probably Wednesday since I already have the next chapter written and I have to focus on my other stories, but yeah pm if you have questions, and as always , please review!**

-**A Day Ago**  
"_Hello?" James called into Dunnovoocha's intercom. The gate was open, but he didn't want to just enter. Dunnovoocha might have sent for him, but rich men usually like to be in control. He waltzing right in may also trigger any safeguards that were in the premise. So he waited...for an hour. To pass the time, Bulvoochi listened to the radio, checked updates on his Facebook, tweeted a few bored tweets. Took picture of his muscles and posted them on Instagram, got into a mega-online argument on Yahoo!, and finally posted a few movie reviews on Netflix. Eventually, he decided that whatever Dunnovoocha wanted him for was not important. He turned the keys of his car, and waited for the hum. _  
_The dashboard stayed dark. "Valerie. Turn on!" His car remained off. Knowing this was part of Dunnovoocha's welcome, James got out the car, and started towards the ultra-billionaire- possibly-a-trillionaires house. It was a weird mixture of red, gold, and white, with all the colors drawn in stripes, dots, combined in mixtures. The house was tall, possibly 100 feet, and at least half-a-mile wide. _  
"_Why the hell does he have that much space?" James was a conservationist, in theory. He believed that people should only do what they should to survive, but that didn't stop him from riding first-class.. His personally tailored shoes, clacked on the red carpet that led to the house. It had a massive balcony, and as James walked down the what seemed to be a mile long stretch of carpet, he noticed massive stone pillars, each expertly carved with animal faces and words; Lion, Brave, Raven, Death, Green Mumba, Doom, Siberian Husky, Companion, Human, Cancer..._  
_They were enrapturing, yet scared the hell out of Bulvoochi, who never before had watch R-rated movies in his life as a boy or a young man. Once he felt he reached the halfway point on the carpet, cameras started to flash, as if he was a movie star. There was no one to take the pictures, but the cameras, top of the line, clicked and flashed. James felt breathlesss, but walked anyway, until temptation overcame him and he started posing every hundred feet or so. He posed, facing both sides, so every camera got a share of his back-side and front. He twirled, and laughed as confetti started to rain on him once he got to the door. It was beauty, and he was..he was...!_  
"You're bugged..."Crislin's voice said as the poly-urethane oak and elm door swung open noiselessly. James suddenly felt embarrassed that such a rigid man had seen him flaunt around as a child. It did not hit him until a few seconds later that Dunnovoocha said he was bugged.  
"What do you mean I'm bugged? No one touched me..."

Crislin's lips still pursed in a thin line. "Those cameras and such are not for your amusement. They take pictures of your clothes and cross scan them together into a highly precise and detailed check of your body. I meet with over a hundred dangerous men a day, all of which would love to kill me, or find out exactly where in the global game am I. The confetti neutralizes and alerts me that I have been bugged, as well as back-traces the signal. In this case, you were bugged by...

"Who? Who was I bugged by?" James asked when Crislin stopped speaking.

"DragonDen. You were bugged...By DragonDen."

James shook his head. "That's not right. Perhaps one of your competitors have foiled with their signature, to throw you off their trail?"

Crislin stroked his beard, as if the thought never dawned on him. "Perhaps...but this will fit with my plans. I was going to have to do it sooner or later."

James and Dunnovoocha walked into the house. The Greeting room was ornamentally decorated with a hanging cache of diamonds and rubies glinting above, and a fur skin floor. James whispered a silent prayer for the Cheetah that died, before taking off his shoes. "May I?" he asked Crislin. The man shrugged, and walked further on. James went back to their conversation. "What will you have to do sooner or later?"

"Get started." Crislin told him. James wouldn't budge. "Are you going to harm DragonDen?!" he asked in growing horror. The only answer Crislin gave him was a cruel smirk. "Guards!" he barked, and three men dropped from the hundred foot tall ceiling. They landed in a triangle around James, glaring at him with dead eyes. James started to back up, but they closed the triangle on him, until it was one in front of him, and two barring his retreat backwards.

"Take him to the workshop. Everything he needs will be there."

"I'll never help you!" James bravely stated, but it only made Dunnovoocha laugh. "You misunderstand me Mr. Bulvoochi. You are in the home of a trillionaire," he halted his speech to walk up to James face. The robots grabbed his arms and pinned them to his back. Crislin got so close that James could smell the power, the security coming off him.

"You are in the home of a trillionaire." Crislin stated again. "I can make you do anything I want..."

And before James could say a word, or try to headbutt the man, he was dragged away, screaming until his echoes faded...

"It's over Buindundilo!" Drake screamed, charging into a dark room. Immediately he thought of retreating, but a hissing green bars suddenly sprang into existence behind him, barring his escape. He glanced backwards with one angry glance, and then focused on the cool air around him. Ghost lit up a small circle of light around the lone Jedi, but nothing showed itself. "_Buindundilo ran in here, I'm sure of it!"_ Drake spared a quick thought for Big Daddy, I mean where was he?! Despite his size, BD was annoyingly sharp on keeping to schedule, and he always arrived on time. The lights blasted on, Drake painfully squinted, and Ghost continued to _grr._  
"It's over intruder!" Buindundilo's voice emanated. Even after several seconds, Drake still could not see. He squinted at where the sound was coming from, but the pain in his pupils made it hard to concentrate. Apparently Buindundilo didn't know of Drake's disposition, for Drake caught him in mid-sentence. "-and now the world shall achieve peace and harmony, with me as a figurehead for the wise, the might, Crislin Dunnovoocha and Alcatri Delnavi! Behold, our sentinels!"  
Drake dimly noticed a dark fuzz behind Buindundilo, and as it fell to reveal even more light, he figured a curtain must've been the dark fuzz. Now dotting specks of the light were dark blotches, impassive. "_What the hell is wrong with my eyes?!" _Drake asked himself, and anything that could hear him. Nothing yielded an answer, but his vision suddenly returned with its previous clarity, and he looked at thirty soldiers, machine guns held at their hips. They didn't move, and had a dead look in their eyes. Their skin looked lifelike, but it lacked a certain luster that only being alive could give you.  
"What are those?" Drake rasped. Buindundilo laughed, chest heaving with his amusement. "These, are your destruction! Hunter-9s, attack!" The men suddenly brought their guns to firing position, and pulled the trigger. Drake tightened his grip on his lightsaber, and charged. One broke the two line formation, face holding the same, unfearful or battle-lusted expression as its counterparts as Drake neared. The man kept up a steady rate of fire, but Drake's enhanced reflexes allowed for him to intercept every round that he sensed would hit him. The air thrilled with its light voice, telling of how it could feel itself yielding to the force of the bullet, right until it would hit Drake, the ground on which Drake ran, which told him in a blank voice that they could see the trajectory below, as did the ceiling above, and then the rough, intensely emotional bullet itself, which from a first-person perspective, would suck Drake's mind into its place, showing him how he looked, as it sped towards him, and how it felt that it, the bullet, would hit the mark. All this, in fractions close to the smallest humans can measure, was what allowed Drake to survive, for he had not the first natural clue of how to block a bullet with a lightsaber. That, and the energy that allowed him for force people into walls, and pull things to him, flooded his body, and allowed him react in ways that he felt made him part god.  
Drake slid on the ground, swinging at the man's knees. Ghost moved through with almost no feel of ever meeting resistance, but the knee joint was gone. The man fell, but he did so wordlessly, without a yell or scream. And much stranger? As Drake battled with the onslaught of life energy around him that threatened to drive him mad, he was met with a still calm when he passed over the men that Buindundilo deployed. Drake's curiosity and guesses were stanched but a moment later when the man fell on his front. Drake brought his lightsaber up, and stabbed downward, right through the fifth vertebrae.  
No scream, no pain, Drake felt no spike in energy, energy that the dead man did not give. Only the man was not dead, for whom would grab onto Drake's leg with unagonized eyes while a lightsaber still ran through his chest, and who would be a man, when they did not say anything, and simply grabbed their gun with their free hand before trying to fire once more?  
Drake kicked the machine free of his leg, and swung at the base of the neck, separating it from the body. Drake turned to deal with the other robots when he was suddenly elbowed in the kidney. Collapsing to his knees from the pain and shock, Drake turned and "pushed" the android behind into a sharp spire. Sparks shot out from the hole in its diaphragm, but extracted itself off nonetheless, and commenced to reloading its automatic. Drake cut the weapon in two, and the machine stared emptily at where the two pieces of its weapon had once been fused before Drake sliced the body in half down the middle, and then lobbed every limb away. Drake screamed as he worked, annoyance winning out, after all when you kill something, you expect it to stay dead! It comes back once, a little freaky, but nothing you will permanently hate. Twice, you tell it to stay dead, but a third time and you just want it over with.  
Drake's arms may have been able to deal with the torment of bullets, but his body soon grew tired from his exertions, and he fell back behind a pile of robot bodies he had created in the center of the room. Only eleven androids remained, and they held their fire, for it was useless to shoot a protected enemy. Drake breathed deeply, trying to control his lungs, which were inflating and deflating rapidly. He felt like he couldn't get enough air, that he would be crushed unless he inhaled. His arms burned, and the heat from Ghost was making his hands sweat. Finally he noticed the robots had dropped their guns.  
Drake stood up. "What's the matter!? Are you giving up before I make you guys aluminum foil?"

"No. Although we have realized that our guns do not fit the parameters needed to defeat you any longer. Activating battle strategy: Peace-Keeper, in 5..4.. 3...

"What the hell is PeaceKeeper?" Drake shouted at them while they continued to count down. 2...1... All the robots stayed still. "So you guys are going to try and make peace with me or something?"

Instead, they all drew lightsabers of their own. Each was a cold ocean blue color, but Drake's eyes widened at the force assembled before he, and backed away from his pile, for it would be cut up just as easily as his own skin. Even more to lower Drake's spirits was Ghost's battery level, which read at a critical 18%. If he engaged these androids, Ghost may run out of power before he took them all down. Another quick glance, and the doors are still barred. Buindundilo has escaped, as has Anatricla. But someone else is in the room, hands clasped behind his back. Drake turns off Ghost, determined to use it only if needed.

"Who are you?!" he demanded. The figure stepped forward, until Drake knew without a doubt who he was.  
"Stephen." Drake breathed, as he glanced at his younger brother...


	10. Doomsday Details

**LLL is reporting for the next chapter of Rise of the Jedi! Hope you like, and everyone have a happy perihelion! **

"Hey kiddo!" Stephen greeted, and then kicked Drake in the face while drawing a lightsaber of his own. Drake rubbed his chin where the boot hit him . "_What is up with everyone now having one of these?_ The Jedi spun around, and slashed at Stephen with Ghost. The lightsaber missed his target but by a few feet, and Drake faced his brother once before two Hunter-9 robots tackled him. Drake hit the ground with his shoulder before pushing up to his feet. Ghost was held over his head with one hand, swaying slightly from side to side, ready to act at his master's slightest twitch. His shoulder stung, but he bit down on his tongue, he'd taken more pain than this. The robots rose up fluidly, and circled him as wolves would circle a trapped bison, hungrily, knowing full well that their lunch was theirs, each with but only one lightsaber. It was visible that both were at higher melkrypes than Drake's Ghost due to their luminosity and pitch they gave off as they moved, but Drake felt he had more experience fighting with his. Kicking off the duel on his terms, he lunged forward, slamming right into one of the robots that circled on his left. It fell but was back on its feet just as Ghost slashed down. Both lightsabers jerked, but Drake jumped back just as the robot pushed him away. The second machine attacked low while the other stayed back. Drake flipped, and twisted as the other robot attacked him in mid-air. The maneuver went wrong however, and Drake twisted his ankle as he landed. Temporarily, the androids attacked together, forcing Drake to retreat. He hobbled and grunted, parrying a stab to his diaphram and elbowing the Hunter in the head. He only succeeded in activating his Humerus. Swearing, he flipped backwards, and took off running towards a wall. The Hunters closed in. Drake waited until he could hear their pacemakers behind him, and then spun, screaming as he poured his energy into a massive "Push" that jettisoned everything backwards. Stephen simply ducked as all the things in the room crashed into the back wall 400 feet away. Drake smiled weakly, and then slumped to the ground in fatigue.

Stephen let a smile play across his face as his brother fought. He'd seen the slip, and no doubt was sure the robots' scanners had picked up on it, and they had had him using all the evasion he possessed. The video camera built into the glasses that rested on his forehead relayed directly to Crislin, who sat at his chair, watching, contemplating. James grit his teeth in anger."Why? Why did you destroy DragonDen?!" James raised a glass and threw at at Crislin, who caught it without looking. His guards began beating James to death.

Dunnovoocha held up a hand to stop his guards, and walked over to the man, who lay in pain on the floor. "My poor James, what I did was necessary. You see, the world is full of greed and fright. Under my reign, these things will exist, but at least everyone will stop deluding themselves with peace, or stop lying to people with the pretense that this is what governments fight for. There is no money in peace. That is why arms dealers make billions, and peace still is not yet achievable. A famous man once said, 'It is impossible to simultaneously prepare for, and prevent war.' What will you do with your weapons? Do you plan on burning them? And what is peace? Well to me, peace is when everyone finally sees eye to eye. And so if everyone just revealed their true colors, that would be a peace of its own. I plan on simply being the messenger, the pro-claimer of this truth."

James shook his head. "But why DragonDen? They were your own men? **We **were your men!"

Dunnovoocha threw his head back, laughing. "Oh that is a good one. Did you never even think that I wasn't using you for a reason? I mean really, DragonDen was created because I had interests, and I wanted them to be carried out. Too much paperwork is needed in bureaucracy, so I simply made an organization of my own, and collected $200 from there. But while you were my hand to carry out my will, you were also the ones who could oppose and stop me should you disagree with my schemes, as you are right now. After all, you were the best of the best!"

"And why wipe us out now!?" James spat back. Dunnovoocha sipped his coffee thoughtfully as if the idea had never before come to him. The grace with which he thought about killing and human loss was sickening. James may have been an agent of DragonDen, but he never did grow use to his company being killers. Yes, they were here because the world had turned its back on them, or they needed the money, but killers are killers. Crislin finished his cup, and upon his last gulp explained. "To tell why I did not do something in the past I must first explain the present. The droids Devilkin combated seem fully capable of handling lightsabers do they not?"

James said they did.

"And the non-CPU/ PC models are holding beautifully, just as I hoped they would. That is the flaw with many artifices. Separate the heart or brain, and nothing works. But when every cell has its own heart and brain, there is always a weapon to be had! With an army of these, I can rule the world in six months. No a week! And with the most elite soldiers out the way, that is a realization. But recent discoveries led me to the energy which I sent your team to acquire. It had the potential to be used against my robots, and once it was weaponized, I had to test it, to make sure that _nothing_ could defeat my droids. And that is what is going on now. I could've destroyed DragonDen years ago, but I needed to be in the political and economic position I am now, and Alcatri was still my bitter rival. Now, we are about to set the bomb on a beauty genocide of the human consciousness. And my friend James, rejoice! For when I rise to the top of charred bones, and incinerated families, your lightsabers will be the peace-keeping weapons wielded by my AI's. To the end!" he toasted, and sipped his drink.

James did nothing but curse himself for bringing about the end of the world.

**Poor James...Have a good night world!**


	11. Drastic Measures

Drake gasped as Stephen kneed him in the stomach, and then threw him. The floor scraped his already bloodied fingers, and realizing his gloves were now were more painful than protective, ripped them off. It stung immensely, and Drake could barely hold Ghost, it was so painful to make a fist. Getting up slowly, Drake focused long to see Stephen advance on him with one arm raised, and then strike downwards. His head gave way without any resistance, and he crumpled, sure he had some neck damage, for electric shocks stung throughout the muscle; he twitched uncontrollably. Stephen whistled. "Wow Drake, you've grown soft." Drake was too exhausted to comment, and Ghost suddenly flickered out.

Stephen kneeled and took off Drake's respirator. "What the hell is this? You have emphysema or something?" He laughed at his own joke and stood. "Finish him." he said to the Hunter-9s, which were all too eager to avenge the way Drake knocked them into furniture.

"Stephen..."Drake rasped. Stephen stopped. "What?"

"Go to hell." Quickly acting, Drake threw the battery pack at his brother, who caught it out of reflex.

"What the hell are you-" he got no further as Drake Force-Crunched the pack. A pulse at the speed of light quickly escaped and suddenly the whole thing glowed a dark blue, and then a shockwave rang out, forcing air to blow out in all directions. The machines were slammed into walls again while Drake had rolled in the position of a window. The air pressure weakened them substantially, and the residual shockwave energy was enough to send Drake through it.

_Crash!_ Drake spiraled out of control, falling and falling down towards a waterfall. The roar of the voracious landmark was soothing to man who had only ever heard laughter or death, and as Drake disappeared inside its mist, he held his breath.

"Come on!" Alamo ordered, and he grabbed the Nova's arm, tugging it with all his might. It was caught by surprise, and didn't resist, which allowed him to get it inside of a building. Impossibly, the cannon noise seemed to be getting louder, and Alamo was forced to play his IPOD 9. "_Fire Burning" _ started again, and Alamo switched it, now did not seem like a good time. So he played "So Cold" by Breaking Benjamin. The Nova sat on the floor, still resigned they were going to die, but Alamo quickly took a stake from the back of his quadricep, and slammed it into the floor. A wire blasted out of it, and Alamo feverishly looked around. "Nova, give me your arm!"  
The Nova seemed unresponsive, simply staring forward unseeingly. Alamo sighed angrily and grabbed the arm himself, opening a hatch to reveal a USB port. It would provide the power needed to power his shield generator. As he started to put the wire in however, the hatch suddenly shut, and the black visors of the Nova filled with an evil red energy.  
"Self-Defense protocols active. Objective: Do not let Shadow use personal shield generator before Satellite Cannon strikes. Do at all costs..."  
Alamo yelled, "I don't have time for this!" The machine quickly rose, and swiped at him. Alamo was faster however, and moved out the way, saying, "Oh shit oh shit!" as the Nova turned towards him menacingly, leaving three inch gorges in the wall with talons that just unsheathed.  
"Oh crap oh crap." Alamo repeated, and grunted as the Nova grabbed him, and punted clean into the next room. He was certain a rib was broken, and something punctured as warm blood ran down his back. But he had to get his shield up. Taking an EMP grenade from the bottom of his boot, he tossed it right in front of the Nova, which had begun to walk to him. A high-pitch blast followed by a violent burst of electricity, and the Nova collapsed, temporarily disabled. Alamo was certain he could hear someone screaming in their, and he remembered that the life support systems were most certainly be offline. Taking his shotgun, he prepared to fire when he saw he only had shot left. A moment of hesitation gripped the Shadow, should he save his enemy, or keep the shot for the unexpected. The dust from the ceiling shaking jolted him into action. "Sit tight!" he yelled before planting his foot of the Nova's chest, and firing at it head. The slugs cut right through it before the overall force blasted it clean off the neck. The man sat, gasping for air as Alamo took out a laser knife and freed him.  
The Nova said nothing, and Alamo therefore concentrated on what he had to do. The heat was becoming unbearable, the Satellite Cannon would soon strike, and if the shield wasn't up to cover the surrounding eight-hundred feet it protected, not even the cells survive the explosion. Slicing into the locked hatch, Alamo dropped his laser knife,( he didn't have time to put it back)jammed his cord into the port and looked back at the Shield Generator, waiting for the blue ray to shoot through the roof, and then dome the whole area.  
But nothing would shoot out. "Come on God Damn it!" Alamo roared, turning to check the generator when a hand closed around his throat. He let out a strangled _damn it_ as the headless Nova armor tightened its grip. It was tight, but his neck armor was halting it somewhat. Spying the man in the corner he rescued, Alamo said "Grab my knife!" It wasn't exactly that, but his pointing with his free hand was enough. The Nova looked at him, and then smiled, its eyes glowing red before it leapt out a window.  
"Nooo!" Alamo choked, and turned back to deal with his assailant. The machine started to laugh, heaving up and down despite having no head.  
"And the Mouse is caught by the cat..." a voice rang. Alamo screamed once more in anger and pain, before he began to black out. But he was certain that was the voice of Crislin Dunnovoocha.  
"I'm...going to kill you." Alamo whispered, and all went completely dark.


	12. Drizzle's Departure

**Hey everyone it's LLL again. I apologize in advance for the swears in this chapter, I'm trying a different style of writing, or perhaps it's the same as before, and I didn't notice. Thank you for all who have reviewed, and for those who view this story, you let me know that my writing aren't some words in cyberspace, but ****_viewed _****words in cyberspace. Thank you again, and have a great day!- LongLoreLover**

Mouse was having the worse day: He'd gained a tan in the few short hours he'd been fighting, he smelled more of sweat than of his pungent Axe Body Odor, his whole body hurt, doing the strenuous activity of war, and most of all, he felt as if something was wrong the whole time. For every man he shot, they never stopped returning fire. Mouse called in a fighter to stealth-bomb a platoon of soldiers, and watched as a whole platoon was obliterated from a plasma burst before the fighter was shot by a rocket-launcher, and crashed into a small congealment of houses. Buindundilo's men didn't even get the chance to yell, but others fought all the harder, ready to die as long as they took some of DragonDen with them. A heavily fortified group behind a much sun-hardened patch of sand shot down a few Shadows whose armor had been heavily worn by the constant warfare. Mouse watched as the people he had fought with for months, going on a full year, fell, never to get up. The battle raged around him, but aside from Drake's brother, which was heavily traumatic, Mouse had never seen anyone die, except for his sister, which was why he joined DragonDen in the first place, to find the man who raped, tortured, and then murdered her. Mouse didn't have a name, just a symbol, which showed a setting sun over the horizon.

A sonic pulse blasted behind as Drizzle launched the Sonic Shadow Cannon they had. The weapon compressed the sound in air that it emitted through speakers, and fired it like a motar at a targeted object. Looking to his side, he saw several tanks riding over a creston the horizon, blasting their mortars off . Plumes of sand and debris shot up into the air where the shells struck, sending Shadows forward, backwards, upwards, or in all three of those directions. Mouse was frozen, sound dragging out as he saw Drizzle screaming intangibly, face streaked with dirt, and the blood of stabbing people with her axe. Mouse stared at the grove of Buindundilo's men who were still firing indiscriminately, while contingents of reinforcementswho seemed to walk out of a central tunnel that Buindundilo's soldiers had held, and move into the town where the remaining Shadows fought them off. Mouse needed a plan, he had never been in such a situation alone, and never with a battle this chaotic.

"We were too cocky."he realized. Months of relatively easy ops had lulled himself, and he was positive most of the Shadows, into feeling invincible. Mouse turned, still numbed, but watched Drizzle's fist slam the red button of the Sonic Shadow, and a high pulse mortar bounded into the air before a tank exploded. Chunks of it went flying in all directions, the Novas inside quickly ejected from their wrecked vehicle. Mouse suddenly regained focus, and grabbed Drizzle. "Come on! We got to go meet up with Shadow 3!"

Drizzle casted one look at the tens of other tanks coming on the horizon, as well as the squads of ten Novas that marched towards them, with hundreds of squads. "Since when did the Novas have that many men?"

Mouse turned, and his mouth moved, but nothing came out. "Come on!" He finally managed to say, and he grabbed Drizzle's arm before their feeble cover exploded all around them. The force sent them sliding across the desert, Mouse gripping Drizzle so he could afford her all the protection he could provide. Sand clung to Mouse's wet flesh, was in crevices he never knew he had. It was just sand, sand sand! He suddenly felt sick of all of it; Mouse wanted to turn the Earth Upside down and watch the sand fall off into space. He'd like that. It was gritty, and he spat out a mouth full before he was suddenly back the time, everything felt like a dream again. Sluggishly rising to his feet, Mouse limped over to Drizzle, and started help her up when Drizzle screamed. A quick jolt of foreboding, he looked down to see her leg not only broken, but cut up with numerous spikes that left it bloodier than a raw leg of meat. "Damn Alcatri and his Needle Nives." he cursed, and grabbed Drizzle's arrow, firing a smoke arrow to provide some cover. While they were covered, Mouse fumbled for his portable radio, and tapped in to the leader of Shadow 3. "Oblivion, what is your status with evacuating the town? We can't hold the ridge position anymore, and I have no idea if Shadow 2 is still in action." There was no answer, except for yelling and a bone breaking. Quick breathing got louder. "This is Persephone of Shadow 3 to Mouse, Oblivion is dead, killed by a rocket launcher." The girl seemed close to tears, her voice cracked at dead, and launcher. Her voice quivered, and while Mouse could hear her trying to be strong, she was shaken as Mouse. The soldier regained his mind as he continued running.

"What is your status on the town!?" Mouse yelled over the bullets whizzing past him. One struck him in his shoulder, causing him to scream and breath through his teeth, but he would not fall. Drizzle, and his life depended on it. The calming sea of black actually shined before Mouse, vbut he dug in the heels deeper than his physically self allowed, and pulled himself back to life. It left the fire in his arm dead without pain, his fatigue without importance.

"We have them out, but we're outflanked by the tanks, Buindunidlo is here. and the enemy seems to be working with Alcatri's men!"Persephone's voice suddenly crackled over the radio.

"What the fuc-"Mouse started to yell

A tank strike near Mouse knocked him off his feet, throwing his body like a ragdoll as he crashed into the dirt. For a moment, Alamo didn't know if he broke something or if something broke him, the world just seemed to shake and recede. Drizzle lay a few meters from him, stirring ever so slightly. He crawled to her, every drag paining his body, which he was sure his armor didn't protect any more. The bullet that struck his shoulder made moving all the more painful, but he had to get to Aresole, assuming the sniper was still alive. He hoped that Aresole was alive, he **had **be alive. Mouse needed someone to help him, DragonDen emphasized teamwork, being alone was nothing he ever prepared for. Big Daddy and Drake were still MIA, yet their target was here; Mouse was sure that's why Ignition had a separate mission for them; To assassinate Buindundilo. So if he was here, then his friends must've failed.

Mouse shivered, and went over to Drizzle, who could barely keep her eyes open. "Drizzle...Drizzle look at me." he said, swallowing. Drizzle's hazelnut brown eyes focused weakly on him, and she smiled weakly. "Mouse." she breathed, bring her hand to his face. It was bloody.

"No, Drizzle, you- You got to hang on here, it's going to be like old times, you know when I'd flirt with you and then you'd reject me. Only now you got to reject death okay? Drizzle, Drizzle!"

Drizzle's eyes opened, but only so it looked like she was squinting. "I'm so tired Mouse. I just want to sleep. To see my dog Monique, to be with God, ask him if we ever were doing the right thing ever. If he'll forgive me. I'm ready to go. "

"You can't go! I need you here! I-I can't do this alone..." Mouse started sobbing. Drizzle smiled. "You're never alone Mouse, but for now, you'll have to..." Her hand dropped from his face, and Mouse shook his head in denial. "Drizzle! DRIZZLE! NO!" he shook his head and started crying, burying his face on her chest. Everything truly receded this time, so it was only Mouse and Drizzle, frozen forever.

His pain would last him that long.

A hand grabbed his shoulder. "Oh shit." Aresole breathed as he saw Drizzle,, and then shook his head. "Mouse, we have to go. Alcatri's men will be here in a moment." We have to meet up with Shadow 3, if they're still alive even."

Mouse didn't look at Aresole, or acknowledge that he heard him. Unbeknownst to Aresole, he grabbed Drizzle's axe. "Mouse, come on! We have to go." Aresole repeated, shifting his weight. "Die!" Mouse screamed, slashing downward at Aresole. Aresole grabbed Mouse's arm with both his hands as he fell down into the sand, and strained to keep it from coming any closer than the three inches it already was from his face. "Mouse!" Aresole struggled, "Cut it out!" Mouse showed no inclination of stopping, just grunting as he pushed harder against Aresole. The soldier finally had enough. "Mouse!" and he kicked the man off him. Mouse landed on his back, and went for the axe he'd lost his grip on, when Aresole tackled him. Mouse struggled, even after Aresole got a good punch in once he was on top. Mouse punched Aresole in the stomach, breaking the soldier's position over him, and allowing Mouse to throw him off. Aresole grunted and crawled away as Mouse advanced on him with the axe. Thinking fast, Aresole threw a handful of sand in Mouse's eyes, causing the grief-ridden man to claw at his eyes. "You motherfuc-" Areosole back leg tripped Mouse, threw the axe away, and then punched Mouse in the head twice before wringing his hand in discomfort. Mouse coughed, and blood trickled out his mouth as he rolled over and spat out a tooth. "Damn, you should have boxed." he commemorated before rolling on his back. Aresole sat down, flexing his fingers. "Mouse, we really do need to go."

"They're dead Aresole. It's just us two..."Mouse said darkly. He got up and cracked his knuckles.

"You don't know that." Aresole countered. Mouse spun on him. "Don't I?! Look around. _**Take a good fucking look!**_ Everyone is dead, we're screwed. There is nothing left. Drizzle is dead! Do you understand me? Nothing can survive if she's dead! Drake, Big Daddy, Alamo, they're all probably dead too! The best are gone, and we're just two, against 1000. We have no chance..."

Aresole was silently crying. He hurt just as Mouse hurt, but he said, "Actually, Alamo is still alive. But we have to move fast to get to him." Mouse turned slowly. "Why the hell didn't you just say so from the beginning you clueless ass!" The two didn't run more than 10 meters when they heard a thunderclap blast through the air, with the force of an entire ocean crashing back into its container after being dropped from space. The sky glowed red, and Mouse sighed. "Can we have a break, seriously!" Aresole froze. "Th-tha-tha-that's Al-Alcatri's satelite cannon..."he stuttered, trembling. Mouse nodded gravely. "Tis it is. Come on. If I'm going out, it's going to be with Alamo." They took off with knowledge that the sky was ready to kill them at any moment.

Mouse and Aresole ran, killing anything that fired at them, and running if the enemy was too far away. Mouse was glad he was in shape, this battle was pushing his limit, demanding everything out of him. When he ran out of ammo, he hacked with Drizzle's battle axe, thrusting his splintered soul fragments into them. When he lost that in the armor of one Nova who clutched the weapon as he died, he just ran. Aresole used his two sickles to kill anything at close range, and sniped any foe who was needed to be dispatched. The scene brought a Transformers film to mind, debris raining down as frequent as rain, dust swirling through the duo's path as they, clothing bloodied, ripped, gone. Mouse gulped air as he started to right when Aresole grabbed him towards the cover of a wall. "Up there!" Aresole yelled over the _booms _and _pows_. Mouse wiped blood from the side of his face and squinted to see Alamo getting up in front of a window. Suddenly the air sizzled, and a part of the roof caved in.

"That was an EMP-grenade." Mouse and Aresole reported simultaneously. Mouse faced Aresole. "Aresole you cover me while I break for the building. Once I'm in, stay hidden here. I'll make it back to you once I have Alamo."

Aresole handed Mouse one of his sickles, and took Mouse's grenade launcher before filling it with a silver canister and firing. _Ping_! It sliced through the air before exploding into a cloud of fog. "Go!Go!Go!" Aresole ordered, and Mouse sprinted, making track teachers everywhere proud. A soldier of Buindundilo who was unfortunate to be the area as the smoke cloud went up, suddenly started firing at random. A bullet caught Mouse in the right knee, causing him to fall and scream. He blew air out of his mouth quickly, cramming his teeth together as fire bled through his veins. The bullet was heated, so the wound cauterized, but it was absolutely agonizing. The soldier ran out of ammo, but his firing escapade gave away his position. Mouse rolled, and threw the sickle. It sliced right into the spine of his target, and he smiled as he fell. Rallying what adrenaline he had left, he got up, and limped towards the door, which swung open. The house was dark, and populated with only a table and straw cabinets. Upstairs, Mouse could hear a strangled "No!"

Careful not to alert anything that he was in the house, literally, Mouse crept up the stairs. He found the sight of Alamo's back to him, struggling against a decapitated Nova shell that was still smoking slightly. "And the Mouse is caught by the cat..." a voice rang. Mouse instantly recognized it as Crislin's. Taking massive strides, Mouse drew his laser knife, and sliced the arm that was holding Alamo. The soldier fell with a pained sigh while Mouse pushed the machine through the decayed wall. Following right after it, he pinned it to the ground, and gripped its chest chassis.

Mouse could tell Dunnovoocha's eyes were on him. "When I find you, I'm going to kick your ass." Then he stabbed once, and stabbed twice, and stabbed again.


	13. Upon the Horizon

Alamo rubbed his throat, and then his eyes flew to the shield generator. "Mouse!" he rasped. Mouse came running through, and kneeled beside his friend. "Yeah man, I'm here."

Alamo pointed, "The shield generator!" Mouse turned with a calm face, until he remembered the beam of death coming towards them. "Oh damn!" And he took off running towards the USB cord on the ground when the Hunter-9 that Alamo saved tackled him. The two crashed across the living room, it slicing at him with blades for arms. Mouse battled the limbs away before they could severely bleed him open, but they occasionally nicked him. "Alamo argh! Get that generator on!" Mouse ordered. Alamo painfully got to his feet before his legs gave out. So, he started crawling across the burnt-chestnut floor. The sun glistened through the window, quite mischievously as if it was enjoying the show, but the sky was quickly tinting red, meaning the beam was almost right behind them. And with a satellite cannon, or more precisely a Raze Cannon, it creates no large explosion, because what good does that do the Earth? Instead, it simply incinerates everything above ground, and superheats the crust all the way to the mantle, making sure nothing can hide below ground. Not much better, but at least there is no crater to refill.

The floor snagged pieces of Alamo's armor, but he grabbed the cord and looked for a power source sufficient enough. The Nova was out of the question, the arm had been severed. What could he use?! "Mouse! There's no power source!"

Mouse grunted, and finally got his leg between the Hunter-9 and himself. It stabbed right through his cheek, igniting a howl of pain. The blade went so deep, it had cut his left-side wisdom-tooth. "Go to hell!" Mouse spat with a mouth of blood, and kicked the machine off himself. It went flying out the building, through the very hole it jumped out of previously, and crashed in a tired heap on the ground below. Mouse held his cheek, and said, "Alaknow, my waser wif. Uwoose wat." Alamo nodded and plugged the cord into the pommel of the blade. There was a hum, and then a blue ray shot out the skinny spire, through the roof, before a blue dome hit its peak at the zenith outside, and reached the ground. Pockets of plasma danced across the barrier, sliding and slipping as the sky became pure red from every direction. Aresole pulled back the bolt of his sniper rifle and fidgeted for another round in his waist-band rack. Nothing...He checked his magazine, empty. "_I'm out." _ Without any true warning, the translucent barrier shook from the force of the electrical impact, jolting Aresole's jaw. Part of the roof near Aresole was blown off as a bullet ricocheted, causing Aresole to duck instinctively. Bullets came dangerously close to his ears, resulting in a high-pitched ringing as he plugged his fingers into them to drown out any further noise. With practiced poise, Aresole rolled off the roof and took off running through his now lessened smokescreen.

Mouse detached a vibrating phone from the bottom of his right shoe and opened it. The black screen suddenly _bleeped_, and showed a high resolution 3D model of Earth. Black dots lined every continent, including Antarctica, and a text message suddenly blared across the screen in bold, red letters: _**DragonDen is Dead! Agents are now considered Phantoms until communication is reestablished by the name of Messiah. Repeat, no contact.**_

Mouse's eyes were gripped by the message, eyes dancing over the words once, twice, thrice, four times. After the fifth reread, when Mouse had dissected every article, every smidget of sentence composition, he emotionlessly called over Alamo. The soldier limped over, wincing at the countless bruises he acquired. "What's wrong?" he asked. Mouse replied, "Look at your phone." Any information relayed was retrofitted specifically for each Shadows' eyes, so in case one was compromised, they could be excommunicated, and not gain any information in the capture of another Shadow. Alamo disengaged his phone too, and read the message. He scoffed in disbelief and grasped the phone angrily, as if it was the cause of DragonDen's demise. "Well we're royally fucked now!" he yelled, throwing his hands above his head. Mouse quietly reattached his phone to the sole of his shoe, and glanced out the window. The Raze Cannon had fully subsided, leaving the sky a free blue. No clouds hung in the air, but a feeling of resolution, of ending, spread. Alamo and Mouse's heads snapped to the stairs as Aresole ran up, eyes wide.

"They're right behind me!" he shouted. Suddenly, there was a shimmer in front of the whole in the wall, and the Light Lancer uncloaked in all its shining glory. The side of the ship slid to the right, and Drake stood hunched, but still ready to fight.

"Who's right behind you?"he growled. Mouse, Alamo, and Aresole leaped onto the ship wordlessly, while Devilkin hopped to the dilapidated floor right below him. The final remnants of Buindundilo's men rushed up the stairs, as well as the mostly destroyed Hunter-9. Drake lifted his arms regaliously. One of Buindundilo's men told Devilkin in crude English to surrender. Devilkin simply looked at him, and curled his right hand. Red irises infecting Devilkin's normal color, and his skin became drained of color, where the veins could be seen coursing red and blue blood beneath the surface. Drake's eyebrows sparser, bones more defined. The man's eyes bulged, and his throat became taut with tension as he grappled with a hand that did not exist. Bui it choked him all the same. As if a puppet on strings, he was lifted into the air, feet left to dangle as they tried to reconnect with the ground. The Hunter-9 and rest of the troop attacked, but Drake easily sent them back with his left hand. Nothing arose to challenge him. Curling his index finger, the Force brought his original victim to him obediently. "Never." was all that Drake whispered to him, and the soul fell to the ground, gasping and coughing. Drake swished the ripped, worn fabric of his cloak, and boarded the Light Lancer. Doors closed, cloak engaged, the ship departed, ascending high into the sky.

"Where to?" Aresole asked. Mouse's mouth was being operated on by a tangle of arms holding scalpels, stitch-guns, disinfectants, enamel fillings, and pain killers , which he did not object to, because he was fast asleep. Alamo was also fast asleep on an operating table. Numerous prosthetic limbs massaged, oiled, lathered, cleaned, or injected his body.

"Where to?" Aresole asked again, this time directed to Drake. Drake slouched in his seat, eyes deep in thought as an arm removed his cape and respirator. The options were not varied. He had also read the message, and knew that Dunnovoocha would not simply let him and the rest of DragonDen disappear. They would have to hide, but what would they do once they crawled out of the framework? Without the original manpower, funding, and connections of Crislin, they would be no match for him. No other government would tolerate them, they were blacklisted soldiers of the USA, which meant they could not reappear again. James was nowhere to be found, so a new lightsaber was out of the question, and Big Daddy could not be sensed, which had Drake fearing the worst. To be overly pessimistic, Drake couldn't even take BD's lightsaber for himself, meaning he was left with his fists, and this power in him. But he was **very** apprehensive to use it. The call thrummed in his bones, tingled him, like an ingrained addiction. It was in-explainable, but the energy, this _Force_, it was getting stronger, and fighting harder against his will to control his actions. It pulled to his darkest thoughts, thoughts of murder, thoughts of unending power. He shook his head, and played off that action.

"I don't know. The future is as uncertain as a bowl; everything is coming together."

**Wow, two months since I updated. That is unacceptable, and I'm deeply sorry about that. The next update will definitely be later this week, as well as all my stories that I'm continuing. Thanks for reading, no review necessary. =)-LLL**


	14. Rise of Yoda

It was quiet, the noise, military language of his life over.

It was dark, the flashes of bullets meant for him having ceased.

It was peaceful, as the cool, night air in the desert came.

Big Daddy twitched his pinky finger, making the joint crack. Slowly, his chest began to move, and he coughed lightly; It blew dust over the floor. After an hour, Big Daddy's eyes slowly opened, unfocused and glazed. The irises were brown, deep and old. Wrinkles stretched all over his face, and strands of white, deceased hair lay all around him. His clothes swallowed his body, and hung like a king-sized bed cover on a baby crib. Coughing again, BD rubbed his throat tenderly, eyes squinted while he took in his surroundings. All was quiet and dark, but to him, to Big Daddy, all was covered in gold. It matched the air currents, moving up and down. A scorpion scuttled into his actual view, but Big Daddy felt it coming before he ever saw it. It's hard, hairy flesh was brown, but green dashes shimmered through its veins, and the golden air around it was dulled, casting a foreboding shadow that foretold death. It approached with caution, pincers snapping on occasion. Big Daddy smiled, and whispered, "Owe you harm, Siberus, I do not. Come."

The scorpion stopped, curious, but then ran to BD. He laid a hand on the ground, and it climbed up without hesitation, softly nipping Big Daddy's ear. He chuckled, and then cast a sad look at himself. "Huh?" his ear flicked a bit as he gave a good look at his hand, and then yelped. His arm was skinny, short, and green. The skin was heavily warped, aged beyond measure. Then Big Daddy looked up, and gasped. A tiny stool was his height, sitting up. Shakily getting to his feet, he was only a few centimeters taller than it. "No...no..."he repeated over and over, shutting his eyes shut. He had been dreaming his daughter, Anatricla, and his wife, and his son, and his life before that that day when he was to deploy to Northern Russia. It was Thanksgiving, and Big Daddy held his wife, Sennia, and told her he would never forget that day. His daughter hugged him close and said she loved him, and he tickled his son Henry's nose. A week later, and his family was supposedly killed in an explosion. His dream became a nightmare, and Big Daddy awoke with this new nightmarish reality.

Another nick to his ear, and Big Daddy laughed again. Siberus perched on Big Daddy's shoulder, and wordlessly, Big Daddy stood. It was time to go. However, he gazed over at Ravage. Oh Ravage, his majestic blade. Siberus clicked his pincers at the hilt, and Big Daddy looked at it again. "Hmm?" he walked closer, his clothing weighing down on him like a building. Before he moved any further, he said, "Off Siberus." The scorpion waited on the ground as BD shed his attire, ending up only in a pair of boxers that were more like long shorts for him. His chest bare, but it was covered in very minute, white hair, and he had an extremely defined abdominal muscles. Siberus was back on BD's shoulder in no time, and Big Daddy picked Ravage up. Then, he saw it. A slight flash of green, inside of it. With his thumb, BD pressed the button, and a green blade shot out, but significantly shorter. "There must be less energy in it..." he murmured, and retracted it.

"Do what now Siberus?" BD asked his new friend, and Siberus pointed a claw down. Big Daddy looked at the bottom of his foot, and took his phone from it. A minute after he read the notice, and Big Daddy threw it into a wall. "Damn it Dunnovoocha!" he grasped his head and exhaled loudly, pacing around in circles before he sat down.

"Now, I do what Siberus?" The scorpion climbed to the floor, and pointed at a hole in the wall. Words were silently exchanged, and Big Daddy stood again. "Fight, if I do, die I will. Raise soldiers, I must. Come Siberus, light it will soon be, have time...we do not."


	15. Deception

5 months later...

Drake took three deep breaths, trying to control his racing heart as he hid inside a garbage dumpster. Dunnovoocha has moved in, and militaries are powerless against his far more advanced machines. Rebels do exist, but many others are heralding Dunnovoocha as a hero. With his hard approach to many world topics, and advanced research such as cloning crops, ending world hunger has made him a god in some people's eyes. His intense water purification has allowed for deserts to become oceans, and intense hydro bombs rain water on drought-stricken lands. Faith in government dwindled as this new power rose, and the fact he was benevolent made it harder to hate him.

It all started at the Upheaval, one month ago. At a United Nations meeting, Dunnovoocha unveiled his dreaded machines, now called the "Predators." Drake remembered watching the internationally broadcast meeting on CNN.

The Predator was compact, standing just over six feet tall, and retrofitted in ballistic body armor and wearing a Flora-patterned hood. It was a light scarlet, laced with black smog tattoos. Dunnovoocha revealed the machine and said, "Ladies and Gentleman, your murderers!"

"What?" was all Drake could have said to himself before the machine took out a red lightsaber, and with a deft stroke killed the American President. "No!" Aresole yelled, making Drake jump. His heart had been hammering so fast he had not noticed his ally walk in, and it frightened him. What if that was a Predator sent to kill him? He would have been helpless! Drake sent another pulse out with the Force, and closed his eyes as it washed back to him like the breaking waves of the ocean, drowning out the pandemonium on television. There were approximately _4000 people in his immediate two mile vicinity, but some entered and left it all the time. An airplane passed over his zenith 4.8 seconds ago at an altitude of 4067 feet, and...wait what?_ Drake opened his eyes snapped his fingers. The TV shut off as people ran in an panic trying to escape the massacre, and he stood, cracking his knuckles and smoothing his black t-shirt.

"Boys, we have company." he announced. Ignition looked up from the table in the kitchen and scrunched his forehead. "How could you possibly know that?" he challenged. Drake closed his eyes again and felt for whatever he was feeling. All around him were a multitude of colors, smells, and tastes, special to each person. But now, he felt four black-holes in his perimeter, things he couldn't sense. Not electricity, no soul, no give off; he couldn't sense anything at all. Which meant Dunnovoocha had made some extreme upgrades.

"If you want to sacrifice our position because I'm jittery, go ahead by all means. But doing a perimeter sweep can only benefit us. Ask Boomstick and Mouse if they're okay if you think I'm wrong?"

Ignition kept his eyes on Drake as he spoke into a wrist-com, speaking swiftly and directly. He lowered it and whistled, bringing two burly men, Juggernaut and Cannon, to his side. Both had massive biceps and pectorals with serious expressions, but they often conveyed their expressions with their eyes because they were both rescued from biological and chemical tests. When Drake and Big Daddy led Shadow 1 back to save captured Shadows from a very wrong raid on an abandoned freighter, they got there to find that both brothers had been injected by a muscle paralyzer in their faces, completely rendering them from speaking and eating, so they must let their muscles speak for them and are fed by nutrients given to them intravenously. Drake could feel intense sadness and pain, but relief that they were there for each other.

"Boys, go with Drake and locate Drizzle and Mouse. They aren't picking up their coms, and if Drake is right," he gave Drake a look that said he would rather light himself on fire. "then we are in big trouble. Dunnovoocha can't know we still are working against him instead of running blind. If we can finish our own personal droids that can combat Dunnovoocha's, and possibly find James, who is building our enemy's troops, it'll give us an army. Then we'll just have to take on the rest of the world..."

Drake wanted to point out the numerous flaws in that plan, but Iginition hadn't trusted him since he came back without Big Daddy. Something rang wrong about Drake, and only Ignition could sense it. It also made Drake wary of his boss. What was giving him away? But now wasn't the time to argue. Cannon and Juggernaut both grab Emp Shoutguns from a wall and pumped them. Drake opened the door, sent out another pulse, and let the other two follow him.

"Run!" Drake shouted to Juggernaut. The alley was too quiet, with no activity on the other side. _"How could I have been so foolish?! Going down an alley was a stupid decision, everyone knew never to go down an alley!" _Drake rolled around a corner just as a beam missed and blew a hole in a wall. Without wasting time, he took off through the hole in the wall, sending as many pulses as he could. Juggernaut collapsed to his knees, a massive hole in his chest. Drake looked back and swiveled his head back to the front. He remembered something that Big Daddy always use to say when he tried to forget something...

"_The dead always haunt us."_ More pulses washed back into Drake's mind, but he couldn't sense anything around him, no people. The whole town was abandoned, except for a scorpion, which was odd...

It occurred to him that Dunnovoocha may have known where they were this whole time, and these people were just scoping out where they were. That would explain the sudden absences. Drake couldn't hear anything running on the roof top, which meant it probably was on the roof. He couldn't hear Juggernaut or Cannon, nor could he spare them any help. His Force Powers were the only weapon he had, but his control over it could quickly deteriorate if he pushed himself too hard. He hit a dead end of a building, ten feet of stone. Without a break in his sprint he shot his hand forward, and the wall shot outwards, bricks and mortar splaying all in front of him. Drake dove through the hole, and screamed as a net exploded from the ground, ensnaring him and dragging him all the way to the roof.

**Hey everyone, LLL here. It's official, I'm going to finish this story before I continue on my other ones. I'm aiming to finish this by June, so maybe ten or more chapters? Thanks for the great support, and I'm posting other chapter in a few hours hopefully. Take care, read long. =)**


	16. Cataclysmic

Drake's heart slammed into his rib cage as he choked back shock. He was flying through those buildings, how did they possibly get in front of him? The net was covered in tiny barbs, and Drake saw his blood glinting back at him. His eyes immediately started to droop, and his vision became hazy. _"Oh hell not drugs..." _He tried to fight off the narcotics, but they were too strong. The rope stopped and he shredded his clothing as he bounced in the net. A Predator was staring him in the face, blocking out the sun. "Hello Drake. It's a pleasure to meet you albeit I thought we'd have to chase you longer." It said in an electronic voice.

Drake curled up his lips to say a reply, but it died in his throat. He simply could glare, and even that appeared to be weak squint. The Predator cocked its head and chuckled. "What? Nothing to say? The great Jedi is helpless against a pair of walking grease-cans?"

Drake weakly asked, "Who told you..I was Jedi?"

The Predator whistled. "Why Ignition did, right before we ripped his head off." Drake whipped his arms as he tried to punch the AI, but he stopped and gasped at the sudden loss of his energy. He renewed his glaring. The Predator even seemed a little reproachful. "Why don't be mad at me, he's the one that did it." It pointed at another Predator which waved. "I'll cut off your head next." It threatened, and a lightsaber flicked out of its wrist. The leader _tisked_ and held a hand. "Lay off Affinity. I'll allow you kill him if Dunnovoocha can't bring him over to the "Dark Side." It laughed at its own quip, and then started narrowed its fluorescent red eyes. "Now tell me, where is the Desert Master?"

Drake was actually confused. "I don't know-" Excruciating pain to his abdomen. Drake couldn't contain it, he screamed, letting everything he'd had inside him out. Heat was coating his organs, pain was blinding his nerves. He mutely looked down with wide eyes, and gazed upon a lightsaber shimmering slightly. He coughed blood, and it sizzled as it hit the roof. The machine lowered its eyes to him, its nose a hair's-width from his. "Heroes always fall Drake. Always, no matter how noble the cause. They aren't fit to live forever, and now, neither will you." It drew back its lightsaber, and tapped his heart. Drake felt it stopping, the shock too much for it. His wound was cauterized, but he felt something flowing out of him. Weightlessness started to take him, and he felt himself falling backwards, off the roof, to his much-wanted death. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the scorpion, gazing intently at him with its many eyes. Then the weirdest thing happen.

It said, "Duck."

Drake bent his head back, careening him into his descent as a figure leaped over him in a somersault onto the roof. It reached a short, tree-trunk weathered arm into a robe, and pulled out a blade. Drake recognized it without pause. The imp turned around, and said, "Drake, sup what is?" just as the three machines closed in.

It was Big Daddy.

Then Darkness took him.

_"Okay Shadows, we have no VSAT or Extraction. As far as DragonDen is concerned, Stephen, Headhunter, Derek, Juggernaut, his brother, Penelope, Einstein, and Swartz are KIA. They don't want us going back, but we're doing this thing anyway. I know I owe it to my brothers and sisters, and so do you. But, Dunnovoocha is one vengeful bastard, so if you fear his possible retaliation against us, don't follow me topside. If so, then grab a gun, because we're taking names!" BD shouted, picking up his Minigun. "To hell and back troops!" _

_"To hell and back!" The room shouted in response._

_**"Is that suppose to a rally? To hell and all the fucking way back!"**__ Big Daddy yelled. The room erupted into hoots and chattered as Drake tapped his shoulder. "You ready kid?"he asked carefully. Drake had been in quite the state since Stephen got left behind to rescue him, and 18 hours was far too long for him. Drake nodded. Big Daddy forced the boy to look at him. _

_"Now Drake, I know you don't want to hear this, but your brother may not be the same man he was before this. This scientists, they aren't like other nuts. They try to create hell on Earth for fun, and want nuclear war. Just...don't expect this to end the way you want." He gripped Drake, a.k.a Devilkin's shoulder, who replied, "My brother is impenetrable BD. He'll never change."  
_

_BD smiled sadly. "Kid,When we lose ourselves, and then are brought back from the brink, we bring back a little darkness too..."_

Drake woke up.


	17. Ingrained

**I'M Back, and I'm not stopping everyday until this story is done. And then all the others. So sorry for the hold-up, but I had the chapter finished, and forgot to save. I was heartbroken, and now without any more apology, Rise of the Jedi!- LLL  
**

The air was too stuffy, the sun too bright, his clothes too constricting. Drake suddenly stopped with the mental whining, he was starting to sound like Mouse! No way in hell that could ever happen. It suddenly occurred to him that he shouldn't be alive, not with a lightsaber having pierced his abdomen. He slowly looked down to cushion the shock of his disfigured torso, but a clean, black T-shirt was on him. Lifting it up with shaking fingers, his skin was smooth, bearing no scars. Drake stared at the miracle for but a while longer before he heard the lock in the door clink. With practiced fluidity, Drake returned to a resting posture as if he was still unconscious, even slowing down his heartbeat. But he could sense that a man, quite young, perhaps 25, had entered the room. The aura exhibited was white, free of inner turmoil and sin.

The man was a monk.

The monk moved closer, sweeping the floor with slow, rhythmic brushes. It was the type of thing an unrestrained soul would become crazy doing, the monk was purposely cleaning slowly. As he made his way to Drake's bed, two things grazed the Jedi. First: Was this really an ordinary monk or was he some kung-fu dude like in the old Shaw Brothers movies? And Two: What would he do if he got past him?

Only one way to find out. Drake sprung off the bed and bolted for the door, only to have his path blocked by two men who just slipped into the room. Both held weird staffs that stood 7 feet tall, and had tassels at the end of each side. Drake scoffed. "You're both actually going to attack me with Nimbus 2000s?" The men's thumbs both sunk into their staffs, and angry blue lightning fizzed out the sides. Drake flinched and slowly retreated back a few paces. "Okay...so those are not ordinary broomsticks. You've somehow managed to weaponize and mobilize Tesla Coils. Impressive." The monk behind Drake chuckled, but he continued sweeping. Drake stood straight on his right leg, and planted his left leg in front of him at a 45 degree angle. He brought his hands up, and with a yell sent the two people flying. The men grunted as they soared through the air and against the walls behind before they collapsed to the ground, unconscious. The staffs turned off and rolled lifelessly. Drake exhaled and glanced at the monk, who was looking at him with a wry expression. "What?" Drake asked.

The monk just smirked."Your strength is already returning. That is good. Follow me." He strolled towards the door, and out without waiting. After a slightly hint of indecision, Drake followed, confident he could handle any other surprises.

The halls of the monastery were breathtaking. Pots the size of cement cylinders housed plants so big they could easily be the cousins of those in the Amazon. Miniature waterfalls of sparkling white water ran down the walls, and vivid, painted images of warriors and historic scenes were weaved into the golden-yellow whole history of the area was depicted, carried on from numerous generations of monks. Drake followed his guide, awestruck at the amount of detail around him. The monastery felt alive, with sunlight gleaming through massive, open glass windows. The monk turned around.

"Drake, how much do you hate Crislin Dunnovoocha?" he asked, blinking very slowly. Apparently everything about this monk was paced.

"Enough that I'd give my life if it meant I could see the darkness drain out of his first."

The monk smiled quickly before he turned back around. "That may be arranged soon..." he pushed open another door, and Drake was entreated to largest room yet. Green vines laced across the ceiling while bushes encircled the perimeter. In the middle were at least 1000 monks, all clothed in the same acid-green robes, heads bowed in prayer. In front of them was an assortment of statues and honey-lavender incense, filling the room with a strange energy. in the center of the roof was a hole which let the sun shine down on a raised altar. To both sides were hundreds of senior monks, as well as scorpions and other arachnids. Drake stared at the thousands of assembled creatures, almost like an army. The monks finished their bow, but stayed seated, eyes now glued onto the altar. Drake nudged his guide.

"What is your name?" The monk did not turn, eyes also glued to the altar. "All will be revealed soon Drake. Let Yoda explain first."

Drake frowned. "Who the hell is Yoda?" The monk raised his pencil-line-drawn thin eyebrows and twitched his lips. "I think you'll recognize him a bit. Now please silence yourself, the show is about to begin."

_Big Daddy's Point of View-_

It was time to begin. I gripped my staff a little bit harder, restrengthening my resolve. In the last half year, I had to hide, I've had to forget. I've had to sacrifice my whole life, my friends, everyone I'd ever known so I could save them, restart. These people trusted me, and I would have to not only trust them, or their skills.

I'd have to trust myself.

A tiny nip of encouragement to my ear from Seberus, and I smiled. I was being silly. Here and now, I had an army of those ready to change the world. They were in control of their emotions, just as Dunnovoocha's Predators were. Now, it was time tell them what was to come. With Seberus on my shoulder, I stepped into the light.

"Hello. I am Yoda, and I am not your solution. I am a tool. We ALL, are a tool. The world will use us even though we think these actions independent of any control. If we die, it was because you have done all you can, not because you were not good enough. A tool cannot exceed its expectations, I hope that Dunnovoocha will not break us, otherwise he will win. And the Earth cannot wait for another savior. Good luck, and with the speed of god, succeed we will."

_Third Person-_

Yoda broke from his speech, and the monks quietly dispersed. The movement of thousands of individuals being utterly silent was off, as if something was utterly wrong with the world. Within half a minute, all the men and women were gone except for Drake, Yoda, and the anonymous guide. The atmosphere was unfamiliar, tense. For the first time in his life, Yoda was unsure. Would Drake accept him, or find him to different to relate to him as a friend? Yoda cleared his throat, and the guide backed up into the shadows. Leaping off his stand, Yoda landed on the floor. Drake glanced at his guide for a quick second, and then back at Yoda.

"What are you?"

Yoda raised an eyebrow. "Understand the question, I do not. What am I? Or what have I become?"

It was Drake's turn to be perplexed. "You weren't always like this?"

Yoda took a step forward. "Like what Drake? What am I like?"

Drake shrugged. "Well you were never human. I mean, the way you speak, your height, ability to talk with arachnids..."

Yoda reached for his waist. Drake automatically became wary, and held out a hand of warning. "Do we know each other?" he asked carefully. Yoda drew his light-saber, and with a flash green light bathed the room. Drake's eyes enlarged to twice their normal size, and he began to shake. Memories came back like a torment. The detachment, the surrealism of being ran through by energy, the slight buzz and cold empty feel as all his nerves instantly vaporized. Yoda barred his teeth and then smiled. "You once told me that you would not lose if we fought again,"

Yoda reached into his cloak, and tossed other light-saber to Drake's feet. Drake tried to speak, but his hands reached for the weapon at the same time. Meanwhile the guide just stared, curious about how the fight would commence, and play out.

The fire in Yoda's eyes did not subside, but further flare up as Drake turned on a bright yellow blade.

"Time for Round 2 then, Big Daddy..."


	18. Choices

Yoda's legs coiled like a spring, all but awaiting for his brain to deal away with the one thing that was stopping him from unleashing Ravage.

Their past friendship. If they fought, it wouldn't stop. This would not just end, not a fight like this. Yoda...Big Daddy could not even explain why he truly wanted to fight Drake. A mere mistake isn't cause for a potential battle. Drake had just come back from the brink of death after all, and Big Daddy himself was unsure if any of his former self remained from a human. These new emotions, they no longer made him friend and ally. He was a wild card, he was going to botch up this whole operation!

"Let's stop this Drake. No reason both of us can't walk out of here, and kill Crislin together."

Drake laughed. "First you call me out, and then you tell me to stand down. What are you? You expect my pride to let this go? Ha, you are an even bigger fool despite your smaller height. No Big Daddy, you wanted your fight, you will get it."

Yoda narrowed his eyes. Drake's hand was shaking, almost so much he could barely keep a grip on his blade. Beads of sweat and sheen covered his skin like a moldy gloss. His eyes were wide as he constantly licked his lips, and his chest rose and fell like ocean waves in a storm. Erratic, dangerously, and massively. But something was also rolling off of a Drake, a weird feeling, almost like when you know someone means you harm despite them smiling at you. An instinct, something that warns you. And right now, Drake was oozing this sinister feeling. His voice had also become more raspy, deeper. And perhaps most noticeable and important is Drake's aura. It was black and smoky. A fathomless black that sucked you in, slowly made you cross-eyed, and smoky to the point that you followed every tendril, and made you drift off with it into the air. Yoda's own energy writhed in discomfort at this new dark energy. Soon, the two filled the whole room. Dark and Light.

But like a violent mixture, they weren't meant to go together. Yoda and Drake's mouths turned into animalistic snarls, and the two leaped at each other with a fury unlike anything ever seen.

Being taller, Drake forced Yoda back, but the small man was fast enough to jump backwards before Drake slashed downwards. As Drake got his balance back, Yoda made his move, unleashing a volley of jump-jabs and foot-slashes. Drake was dancing on his tiptoes before long, tired of the constant jumping and blocking. But every time he went on the offensive, Yoda forced him back on the defensive. The barrage only made Drake madder however, and soon Yoda struggled just to made Drake's light-saber twitch. With a savage roar, Drake back-handed Yoda backwards. The green gremlin landed on the ground 5 meters away/ 15 feet away dazed. The blow stung, but landing on his back made Yoda breathless. Before he could rise, Drake was mid-air, baring down on Yoda with his light-saber above his head. Yoda closed his eyes, prepared for the end.

And he welcomed it.

As Drake's feet were about to touch down to deliver the fatal blow, he flew backwards, sliding across the floor. Yoda opened his eyes, and saw Drake's guide standing over him, hand outstretched. He stood up straight. Drake rose angrily, brandishing his light-saber as he prepared to engage his new threat.

"Enough you two! We cannot have our two best chances for survival fighting each other and killing each other. I know why you act this way, but suppress these feelings until Dunnovoocha is dead. If you do not stop, I will kill both of you." The guide threatened.

Drake threw back his head and laughed. "Oh that is a good one monk! How do you plan to kill me when you are weapon-less?"

The monk stared at Drake. "My name, is Shiva. And this is how."

Drake suddenly dropped to the ground screaming at the top of his lungs. His fingers were digging into his skull as he wailed, eyes rolling up towards his brain as he began to seizure. "Stop Shiva!" Yoda yelled, tugging at the monk's robes. Shiva's head snapped up as if he was in a trance, and Drake stopped writhing. He moaned weakly, and smiled. "Fine, you win. I'll play good guy for now."

Shiva looked at him concernedly. "I swear Drake, you cross me, and I will finish this job. I aimed to make you suffer just now, but I can kill you instantly with just a look. Now gentleman, to the Hangar, where we leave in four hours. Dunnovoocha awaits."

Yoda did not glance at Drake as he passed, just ask, "Are you really gone?"

Drake shrugged. "Yeah I guess. I still feel this coying urge to kill you." Drake noticed Yoda's pointing-finger twitch towards his light-saber, but he kept this observation to himself.

"You do know that Shiva wasn't lying. He will kill you without hesitation."Yoda warned. Drake knew this was Yoda's last attempt to save him. Depending on how he phrased this answer, it would begin to mend, or destroy their friendship. Drake picked the latter with a grin.

"Well... he needs to look at me. So I'll cut out his eyes. And don't you dare get in my way again."

With that, he got up and left, leaving with an ash-fallen face of despair.


	19. The Apprentices

Drake walked into a darkened room, eyes not needing to adjust. He saw what he needed. Drawing his light-saber, he let his thumb sink into the power switch. The blade burned bright, and the darkness fled away from the yellow glow. However it still was not enough to to showcase the mechanical Predator that was hanging from the roof. It's white eyes flashed once before its clawed fingers dislodged from the eighty foot above-the-ground-ceiling. With a heavy thud and display of cracked tile, the Predator landed, and raised its head with a growl. Drake just tilted his head to the side. "Oh come on, you won't fight me like that."

The mask scoffed. "You're smart. Now you'll die." Its hands bent all the way back to its wrists, and out shot two light-saber hilts. Snapping back, the hands grabbed the cylinders in mid-air, and yellow grew out of them. Twirling both, the Predator attacked.

Drake spat at the ground, and raised his hand. The lights of the Predator went out with a flash and the hunk of metal noisily crashed to the ground in mid-sprint. Drake then said, "Did you honestly think that had any chance of killing me?"

"No...but I was expecting a good bout. You know how I always love those fights. Two of my favorite movie franchises: Star Wars and Predator, combined into a real life configuration. Do you remember the first time Big Daddy and you fought?"

Drake turned around to see king-like appearance of Crislin Dunnovoocha.

"I remember." he replied, smiling as he saw their supposed target sitting on a throne. Arms were splayed out in a lax manner while his legs were criss-crossed over each other and a mug of...Irish Cream Coffee lay in his right hand. Crislin smiled too. "Are you here to kill me Drake? Avenge your little DragonDen?"

Drake rolled his eyes. "I'm tired of not being on any sort of team. With DragonDen, we were working for you, the bad guy, but we also took down other bad-guys. Does that make us good? Bad plus bad equals good right? Not true. The rationale hurt my head every day thinking about. So now, I'm picking an easy side."

Crislin put his mug on the arm of his chair and asked, "So you're on my side now?"

Drake shook his head. "I'm on the bad side. Your side has too many angles."

Crislin stepped a few feet forward, hands in his black silk dress pants. "Why are you still talking to me when you can kill me just as easily as that Predator guard? Don't tell me it was because of my charm and fortune."

"You have no charm, but I do need your fortune. I have a score to settle with someone called Yoda."

"Yoda? As in, the Desert Master?" Crislin for once appeared astonished. Drake chuckled to himself, mentally taking a picture of Crisilin's face at that moment.

"Well it makes sense why rebels in the Far East are all riled up by this figure. What do you need with my fortune?"

"We'll get to that. First, I need to see James."

Crislin sucked in his breath through his teeth. "I'm sorry Drake, but James is dead."

Drake cut off Dunnovoocha's right hand before the man could comprehend. A howl of agony spurred from Crislin's lips, but it had a hollowing effect on Drake. He didn't need games, he wanted what he wanted.

And he wanted it now.

"Are ready to take me to him? Or will I have to remove your leg at the knee?"

Crislin painfully looked up. "I will not help you. You look tacky," He took out a screwdriver, and tossed it to Drake's feet, unfearing of Drake's glare.

"Now go screw yourself." Crislin spat at the floor. Drake burst out laughing. "That worked better than I hoped. Now I have a reason to kill you!" With a spin, yellow flashed for but a second, and Crislin's body fell forward while his head fell back.

"Now let's revive you." Putting the head back on the neck and hand back on the arm, Drake closed his eyes, and dug into the Force. It was pool of energy, circulating with individual currents; the life-force of all beings that Drake could detect. Some were completely golden, and pure of heart, while some were all black and smoky, corrupted. Drake looked for but a few more seconds, and suddenly he had found Crislin's newly released life-force.

"Gotcha." Taking hold of it spiritually, he ripped it from the pool, and jammed it back into Crislin's body. It was instantaneous. Crislin coughed violently, and then gasped as disorientation set in. Drake held him down.

"What did you do to me? What did you do?!" Crislin screamed, still gasping. Calmly, Drake said, "I have saved you. You will soon be thankful for what I have done. Now rise, my apprentice."

Dunnovocha's frantic eyes stilled, and he rose. "Master." he greeted, and Drake's heart pounded with pride for himself. He could resurrect the Dead?! Amazing! He was to be the strongest man on Earth! But he maintained a poker-face. "Take me to James."

Crislin said nothing but started walking towards a wall. With both hands, he ran his fingers down it. The wall crumbled, and revealed a cage. The man inside it looked up with spite. His hair was long and matted from the time he had spent in there, and his flesh was gaunt. Drake wasted no time in moving over to James.

"I have need of your services James." He said. James' eyes widened with recognition. "Drake, you're with him?"

"More like he's with me. I want you to make two light-sabers."

"I won't help you. You and Dunnovoocha can go to hell."

Drake pursed his lips and bent the bars enough to make a gap he could fit through. "Here we go again."

*Ten minutes later*

"What would you like the two light-sabers to be like?" James asked Crislin. Drake in the meantime was surveying the wall of blades. Some massive, some small. Then he saw it.

"James, why did you make a light-spear?" Drake questioned with genuine curiosity. He hefted it in his hands.

"Well, I use to think that if you and Big Daddy ever were to rescue me, you would probably like these. And that spear was that promise I made to you long ago when I gave Big Daddy Ravage."

Drake nodded, and clipped the weapon to his back, he'd test it later. "Now Crislin, you will practice with a standard light-saber until James is done making your custom ones. I will teach you what I know. With it, you will in turn teach others down the line."

Crislin kneeled. "Yes, my Master."

"Then we shall begin. James, grab a light-saber too."

"But I am weak my Lord." James acknowledged.

Drake walked up to James, and placed his hand on his chest. Reaching into the force, he packed tens of life-force into James. In front of his eyes, James hair receded. Color returned to his flesh and hair follicles. His clothes themselves even mended from rags into a tan t-shirt and blue khakis. James looked himself over and flexed his hands, admiring the work. Drake let out sigh, and then proceeded to empower Dunnovoocha. Needing to rest his feet, he sat on Dunnovoocha's throne.

"Now, draw your blades." James and Crislin did without hesitation.

"Fight." Drake ordered, and the flashes of red and red followed.


	20. Calm Before The Storm

"I'm going to kill him. The moment I see him, I'm going to make his nerves turn into thermite, and laugh in rhythm with his screams!" Shiva swore, furiously throwing a box of ammo into a wall. Yoda sat in a Full-Lotus on the floor as Siberus and him watched Shiva lose his cool. When Yoda felt Drake take off in the Light Lancer, and discovered the five monks he had to kill to escape with it, he went right to Shiva. And the outlook of this was bleak. Drake with Crislin means Crislin had advance warning, and with his limitless resources, Drake could execute whatever plan he had in mind. Plus an army of Predators complicated the issue...

"We'll need more help than a couple thousand monks and some weapons. We may have numbers, but they are not borne of war. They won't make good troops." Shiva surmised. Yoda nodded in agreement. "Suggests we surrender Siberus-"

"I would rather die than surrender to them! How could you even consider-"Shiva interjected with venom.

"Your temper, you must control. If so, then know you will that Siberus suggests we trick our way in. Accept us, Drake will. Earn his trust, we must then do. From inside, crumble will his power." Yoda counter-interjected. Shiva stopped and blew air out of his mouth, and considered it. After a bit his mouth dipped into a frown. "Are you sure Drake will not just kill us on the spot?"

"Certain, nothing is. Our best chance, it seems. Trust in justice of the Force, we must." Shiva ran his hand across his head. "I don't like this, trusting in a 'Force' to help win. We should invest in a plan in case this fails."

"To sometimes win, all or nothing you must go. Full force must be assembled, for Drake to most likely believe us. Any secrets, he will find," Yoda sighed. "A good position, we are not in."

****A Day Later****

"So you just surrender?" Drake asked with incredulity. He, Dunnovoocha, and James stood in front of Yoda and Shiva's whole army in charcoal black cloaks, hoods over their heads. The two Sith Apprentices surveyed for trickery amongst the troops while Drake made the questions; a whole army of Predators lay underneath the ground in case of an attack.

Yoda continued the ruse however. "Foolish to attack you, it would be. What victory would it bring anyway? Better to let the world run handicapped, than decapitate it completely."

Drake eyed Yoda. "Bold phrases. I do not believe you though."

"Believe, you do not have to do. Accept though, you must."

Drake was silent for a moment. The wind whistled and picked up speed as grey clouds moved in. In the distance, flashes of internal lightning exploded. Yoda turned towards it, and after a couple seconds he cracked a smile. "Nice trick."

Drake raised his eyebrows and turned into the distance. Thunder boomed as he finally spoke. "I did not do that purposely. I find my feelings are able to influence forces around me."

"How appropriate then." Yoda replied. Drake gave Yoda a fake smile. "Fine, you may join us. Perhaps you've come around. Perhaps you wish to take us on from the inside. Either way, it was getting boring around here, and there is something I must talk to you about."

He snapped a finger and the door to Crislin's new fortress opened. Without further ado, Drake turned around, and headed back. Yoda and Shiva shared a look, and went inside. But unbeknownst to Drake, someone else saw them heading inside. From the foothills tens of miles away, a lone soldier watched with a pair of binoculars, and a Sound Catcher. The portable relay was clipped to her shoulders, and could catch voice frequencies from up to 100 miles away. With her headset, she heard everything, and saw everything.

What she saw worried her.

"Come on, give me the signal..." she prayed. As if he heard her, just as Yoda went in, he balled his hand into a fist, and then shot out two fingers. The door closed right behind him a moment later, but Drizzle caught it.

She smiled, and nodded. Big Daddy was on her side, and he had gave her the signal. Bringing out her wristpad, she spoke, "Ignition, it's time. Big Daddy is in posititon. Codename: Messiah."

From out of the storm a massive flotilla of cloaked gunships landed. The doors opened, and Mouse jumped out before hugging Drizzle tightly. "Glad you made it!"

Drizzle scoffed. "Please, nothing kills me. Sorry I had to split so suddenly when the Predators came, but I couldn't get back. And everyone was gone was I had returned to the hideout." Alamo came up behind them "Big Daddy's in there?" Drizzle nodded. Alamo shook his head. "This is going to be a great thing on our resumes'. 'Saved the world'" Mouse said as he looked into the sky. Alamo and Drizzle smiled while the remaining members of DragonDen came. Ignition gave a look at the looming fortress. At 3000 feet tall, massive spires pointed towards sky. Gun turrets patrolled the air and watched the ground, and numerous hangers pockmarked the place. It was the definition of impenetrable.

"Oh boy..." Mouse said as they all checked it out.

"How the hell are we supposed to get in?" Ignition asked with resignation.

"We wait. Big Daddy is working on a plan, but us just attacking outright will not help him." Drizzle stated. Aresole returned from his scouting, out of breath. "Guys, we have a BIG problem."

"You mean the Universe still isn't done with us?" Mouse groaned and sat on the ground.

"Not quite. It would appear that Arswatt and Anatricla are on their way with the US Army to put Crislin under arrest for crimes against humanity."

"You're not serious!" Ignition yelled. Drizzle was confused. "Wait, why is that so bad?"

"Think about it. Bullets against light-sabers! And these guys don't know BD is undercover, they'll shoot at everyone. It'll be a massacre...for the US."

"Then we have to move now..." Drizzle concluded. She grabbed her Barrette .75 Cal, Custom.

"Aresole, tell the army that everyone not a machine is on their side. We'll buy time for you so they can make it in, since they'll have more firepower than we do." Ignition ordered. He checked his pistol for extra rounds.

"I doubt that." A burly soldier named Obliterate said as he started up his mini-gun. Ignition flashed his eyebrows. "Well how do we get in with the least casualties possible? Suggestions?" he asked.

Mouse put a grenade in his FPL Grenade Launcher. "We knock. Grenade-style." he said with a grin, and took mcok-aim towards the door."

"Hey Aresole, got any more smoke grenades?"

**Three more chapters left, plus two Epilogues, and then it's sadly bye-bye until the next fiction. Just to clarify, when Yoda turned and cracked a smile, he had seen Drizzle, and that was why he smiled. Just wanted to put that in there. Thanks a ton for the reviews, and I'll upload the next chapter either later tonight, or tomorrow. Take care guys!-LLL  
**


	21. Fight to the Finish: Part 1

The halls of Drake's fortress were wider and longer than even those back at the monastery, just overflowing with detail and objects. Priceless vases and expensive china were cased in towering oak and pine wood cabinets, sheltered behind inches of glass. The floor itself was covered by a host of animal skins sewed together, and paints studded with rare gemstones made the walls a reflecting beauty. Everyone's shoes were taking off at the front though. Shiva and the monks surveyed the scene awestruck, but Yoda knew this was a diversion. Drake was planning something. So he pretended to be interested in the thousand year old artifacts and hand-written scriptures of the Roman Ruler Diocletian, all the while keeping one hand inside his robe, finger on his light-saber button.

That was when Yoda noticed that Drake was not leading the tour. No, only James was here. Closing his eyes, he let the Force well up from within him. Soon everyone's skin, clothing, they all melded into a color. Some had spiky outlines, others were like an unstable blob, growing out in any direction at any time. But, he felt a dark gap upstairs. A place where the good souls of the Force avoided. _"Drake..."_ Yoda surmised. As they neared a set of stairs, Yoda started to climb them. Shiva started to follow, but Yoda raised his hand._ "Keep the monks safe Shiva. and keep James within your sight. If this goes south, and it will soon, drop him."_ Yoda continued to climb the stairs while he spoke to Shiva to make it seem like nothing had transpired. Wordlessly, Shiva changed his direction and rejoined the crowd. "Is something wrong Shiva?" a fellow monk asked. Shiva batted it away with a hand and a small laugh. "No. Just enjoy the view. It is something is it not?"

Yoda made it to the second landing and followed the vortex, reigning in his instincts. He needed to control the good side of the Force too, because it wanted to vanquish the Dark Side, no matter the ramifications. And Yoda had the burning urge to go into that room and rage light-saber mayhem against a Sith. He needed to keep up the facade a little bit longer, and then he would give himself over to it.

He saw an open door, although he was suddenly torn in half mentally. Half of him wanted to charge into there, but it had such a foreboding sense of death that his hair rose, and goosebumps began to prickle his flesh. But, he had to endure. Taking a deep breath, Yoda turned the corner. and walked in.

"Ah Yoda, you made it. Did you get lost?" Drake asked. He was seated behind a massive desk, clad in only a black muscle shirt, and jeans. His head was now covered in shaggy blonde hair, and a stubble gave him handsome sideburns.

Yoda took note of the things in the room, anything that could be used as a weapon. So far, he had the desk, Drake, and some sharp china. But that meant Drake probably had another trick up his sleeve.

"What do you mean, 'get lost' Drake?" Yoda remained standing, but the goosebumps returned as Drake began to drag his finger against the lining of a cup. "Why Yoda, surely finding your way through some hallways is not the limit of your power?"

"I do not understand Drake. Are you implying something?" Yoda asked with naive curiosity. Drake crushed the cup in his hand, ignoring the blood from the cut.

"You hid something from my view outside when I looked out into the foothills. I want to know why."

"Drake, why can you not believe I'm your side?" Yoda asked with fake exhaustion. Drake thought about it. "Actually, I was hoping you'd ask. James, please come in."

Yoda closed his eyes, praying what was happening wasn't happening. But when he turned, James came in, and he had Shiva.

The monk was unconscious and bloody, with a swollen eye and without a left hand. Yoda's anger flared up, and he drew his light-saber in a whirl. But a fraction of a second later, and James had his up too.

Yoda kept his brown eyes on James, staring daggers into the Sith Apprentice. But his next words were at Drake. "Let him go Drake." he warned. Drake shrugged. "You wanted to prove to me your loyalty. Then here it is: Kill him.

"You can't be serious!" Yoda yelled. Drake actually laughed, it made Yoda want to take his head off. "I'm absolutely serious. If you wish to get close enough to kill me, then you'll have to do it without your Death Stare friend right there. Otherwise," he took out a longer than normal length hilt with two ends to it. "You hope your skills as a Jedi eclipse the three of us as well as you did when you and I first fought BD."

"The three of you? Power must have gone to your head Drake, you've forgotten how to count." Yoda sneered.

"Not at all." Crislin said. Yoda spun around, and saw Crislin seated on a couch exactly one meter from him. Their long-time benefactor smiled. "Looking good Big Daddy, although I have Botax for your wrinkles if you need some."

Yoda looked to Drake, lost for words. "What? You honestly thought you were the only one who could hide people? Once I realized what you did, I decided to see if I could replicate it. Crislin sitting within stabbing distance of you while we had a pleasant conversation for about 3 minutes? Pretty damn good replication I'd say. Now, are you going to kill Shiva?"

He turned on his blade. A teal-colored rod three feet long extended from the bottom side of it while four feet of energy bloomed out the other side until it grew into a spear's point. Gold stripes ran through it into a continuous line. Drake twirled it once, and then let it rest towards Yoda.

"Or do we have to kill you?" he smiled again.


End file.
